tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66799312494506328892024-02-07T08:07:46.796+06:00EngineerRower in BangladeshA collection of tidbits from my journal entries as I spend time in Bangladesh on a Fulbright Scholarship. Although I journal everyday, my blog is updated weekly with things that I really want to share with friends, family, and community. My time here will be spent learning Bengali (3 months), and performing research on the transportation infrastructure in the city of Dhaka (9 months.)Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-21880360022968404092009-01-11T09:09:00.010+06:002009-01-11T09:57:16.378+06:00Week 59: Two days in Singapore. And then that was it. I came back home.<div><div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">59th-1st in Singapore 10/15</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />Early in the morning we arrived at the border of Malaysia and Singapore. At the last stop in Malaysia, immigration officials came on board and checked all our passports and visas. However, we did not get stamped out of Malaysia here, and in fact we would never get this stamp. When we reached the actual border with Singapore we had to alight from the train, and go through off board immigration. We submitted our immigration documents and got stamped into the country. Comparing this whole border train crossing to Bangladesh and India, this was incredibly fast.<br /><br />From the border it was only a short trip to the final train station in the island nation of Singapore. Despite what we hoped, that we’d have an MRT stop right nearby the station, this ended up not being the case. We had to walk several blocks to an MRT station.<br />She had booked us at the same hostel she had stayed in a few weeks back for three days. We arrived but couldn’t put our stuff in yet, beds not ready. So we left our things and sought out foreign exchange, breakfast and internet in that order.<br /><br />After finally getting our bunkbeds, and showering, we set out to explore the city. She was gracious to re-see some things she’d seen before, but also was excited to show them to me. We made an okay balance. I first got lunch, she wasn’t hungry. We sat at one of Singapore’s famous outdoor food courts, perfect for the nice year round weather.<br /><br />She showed me the city’s main library, and got a view from the top. The city itself is super nice. Everything is impeccably clean, not surprising as Singapore is famous for strict rule enforcement. At one point I spit on the street, and instantly I realized that this was finable here. Luckily I wasn’t caught. (pics: myself in front of Singapore's National Library, view from the top of the library over a part of Singapore)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCPiaWz-MCYdnioUpfHZicLhm9s76uua9hQCYM_BF7A5k6Bv3qR_d90FZLVl37hpTIYMkSjkVoulZJOQc9GQwbjEzFJ9DgIHkFFo29d-YWpqYR91_0OutKSVjEeMv8bPrX_Tul5CZUl12/s1600-h/DSC01222.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873222082494386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCPiaWz-MCYdnioUpfHZicLhm9s76uua9hQCYM_BF7A5k6Bv3qR_d90FZLVl37hpTIYMkSjkVoulZJOQc9GQwbjEzFJ9DgIHkFFo29d-YWpqYR91_0OutKSVjEeMv8bPrX_Tul5CZUl12/s320/DSC01222.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Smi-QW7y3IwhoHUCs7Dmtt6wUx9xVjJiI-ReTRFFCG0AUZxGBBR5MBtd7rfAjXWDW58PY410xuOCUC1PfsDRL_GpFuYC_FjmmPmq4iyVIhYg5QXmyCYteMunNQQ5LCqGjF9Ms4tMJfEw/s1600-h/DSC01226.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873221826350418" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Smi-QW7y3IwhoHUCs7Dmtt6wUx9xVjJiI-ReTRFFCG0AUZxGBBR5MBtd7rfAjXWDW58PY410xuOCUC1PfsDRL_GpFuYC_FjmmPmq4iyVIhYg5QXmyCYteMunNQQ5LCqGjF9Ms4tMJfEw/s320/DSC01226.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was excited to see their transportation system, which is a model for all the world. Their inner city congestion pricing is also famous. (pic: the signage and information board for the congestion pricing system in place in Singapore)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJyvomqFtaDzC3YxLckv6K9MalZkMQg4q770L7opnxKjD6tHv34F8TuC8BjuNHRkUz_0hYPTQJDBdCq8Ls09uLpY3h6zzVuQ_x6_aPy2FJ5xpScjVXA83sseXaMTHDhBPACwsiDlpmPf1/s1600-h/DSC01215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873409699624034" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJyvomqFtaDzC3YxLckv6K9MalZkMQg4q770L7opnxKjD6tHv34F8TuC8BjuNHRkUz_0hYPTQJDBdCq8Ls09uLpY3h6zzVuQ_x6_aPy2FJ5xpScjVXA83sseXaMTHDhBPACwsiDlpmPf1/s320/DSC01215.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />She brought me over to Suntech City, which has the Fountain of Wealth, the largest fountain in the world. The whole place was really nice. In the area around, Amy pointed out to me the structures erected for the Formula 1 race held here a few weeks ago. She was here when the race was in town, although she didn’t get to watch. I was jealous. She said you could hear the cars ripping through the city from far away. (pics: myself in front of the Fountain of Wealth at Suntech City, remannts of the stands and track lights for the F1 race in Singapore)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJdYDR93vW1I_artk_Ut8F7SQH8CHYr2PzzrVBSQ8SabCzAn7_EsGJrfDplbGGtJh-H3qhZnS3bzMb-K2FMB4fpaeaToq6Cqd8KcbXyXtYE8w5jZ9DQb3_0Rk5rsHT29NtrT7M4L3JmMj/s1600-h/DSC01232.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873213208661250" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJdYDR93vW1I_artk_Ut8F7SQH8CHYr2PzzrVBSQ8SabCzAn7_EsGJrfDplbGGtJh-H3qhZnS3bzMb-K2FMB4fpaeaToq6Cqd8KcbXyXtYE8w5jZ9DQb3_0Rk5rsHT29NtrT7M4L3JmMj/s320/DSC01232.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffa7faZL09XdTY09jRSiyNWdgN36mngMnY7NVv6pu64uHvDrlhfcGN5QGmVm4hsK6ZYydfEbEWyEJTvXkCK7UDrghIe2S9GhlI-P9MIbZ08Or7NUxRPJUCS1_lQr4zxAZBGOTsgj2Frtg/s1600-h/DSC01229.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873218794409074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffa7faZL09XdTY09jRSiyNWdgN36mngMnY7NVv6pu64uHvDrlhfcGN5QGmVm4hsK6ZYydfEbEWyEJTvXkCK7UDrghIe2S9GhlI-P9MIbZ08Or7NUxRPJUCS1_lQr4zxAZBGOTsgj2Frtg/s320/DSC01229.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We decided to head to Singapore’s big tourist attraction, a giant Ferris wheel called the Singapore Flyer, similar to the London Eye. We knew it’d be expensive but it was more than we thought. We decided to do it anyway; it was the one thing she’d wanted to do coming back. I had an HSBC credit card, and it ended up giving us a 20% discount. (pics: Amy with the Singapore Flyer in the background which was the one thing she missed on her first visit, myself at the base of one of the support poles for the Singapore Flyer)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DRatjpVtrWNvJX3QgjYiU6XvmpL8vP9Ci9aexgFTu6kPO2aUND9ZFxOAVZAPr_rWnwZks-rM1QCtJP2s33KtgT15d-jTAcenEeAn-0YPdWla9IQjMd00wGS_jvbXGm7OMLUy7yJG9prM/s1600-h/DSC01233.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289873213067055570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DRatjpVtrWNvJX3QgjYiU6XvmpL8vP9Ci9aexgFTu6kPO2aUND9ZFxOAVZAPr_rWnwZks-rM1QCtJP2s33KtgT15d-jTAcenEeAn-0YPdWla9IQjMd00wGS_jvbXGm7OMLUy7yJG9prM/s320/DSC01233.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRWkMuzHnZSw9s5gu_U_DEW48MRgS0oQ_MQjsHUs1onWd1-VHEvffFuwy9s660esd-epObUjJfMOpJRlsjy11yt4cpwcPuROhWFkmiIEYXnGsNUk_oD176ZjUF6DPSHdGloyUDXp39HAlL/s1600-h/DSC01242.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872874887331538" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRWkMuzHnZSw9s5gu_U_DEW48MRgS0oQ_MQjsHUs1onWd1-VHEvffFuwy9s660esd-epObUjJfMOpJRlsjy11yt4cpwcPuROhWFkmiIEYXnGsNUk_oD176ZjUF6DPSHdGloyUDXp39HAlL/s320/DSC01242.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The views from the top of the Singapore Flyer were incredible. You could see out all over the island of Singapore as well as the ends of Indonesia and Malaysia. The little map they give you onboard was real helpful in identifying places. (pics: Singapore Flyer's 20+ cars, myself on the Singapore Flyer, Amy with Singapore's central business district behind, boats sitting in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strait_of_Malacca">Strait of Malacca</a> with Indonesia in the background)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV5TO4QFpLRlznzgIULNDHQX4-I7EaNKwuVnek2W0VUI23ozXOYc_g1omEXnn5vmy9SxXLG_xndYTWB-3xTHFRAT_czwHRyyziu0uuyBo_F3AhV73tS1YOJNMOdyPJqKABSYrIpAME_LS/s1600-h/DSC01245.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872876311281074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV5TO4QFpLRlznzgIULNDHQX4-I7EaNKwuVnek2W0VUI23ozXOYc_g1omEXnn5vmy9SxXLG_xndYTWB-3xTHFRAT_czwHRyyziu0uuyBo_F3AhV73tS1YOJNMOdyPJqKABSYrIpAME_LS/s320/DSC01245.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlS0bN73obPj7zRnx5alipEIj3f06lzDZy4qYdL7qO2mWVTeaA9W-8zO7lV0blEtnUQcxEOMsIzK1KSES5JAmbasM7Vqf7ZEKTf3kg9I6tpnRVB_z2SzffKweYPtd7_LECIW-CN_Dgoug/s1600-h/DSC01263.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872866185795954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlS0bN73obPj7zRnx5alipEIj3f06lzDZy4qYdL7qO2mWVTeaA9W-8zO7lV0blEtnUQcxEOMsIzK1KSES5JAmbasM7Vqf7ZEKTf3kg9I6tpnRVB_z2SzffKweYPtd7_LECIW-CN_Dgoug/s320/DSC01263.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqTujflRHfAwH2ivdcKwRtLsfeKUWXbKVdIkJ_h5QA2UxYfw6q9N7b25e-MoXOeyiuGmyYXcWjMSmIhDQqkQhLAIb6I0DJWLpMtr-j7fm16eOJLyjwQXNNPFUsNsxoyBfYR5w_pDSHl6T/s1600-h/DSC01260.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872871665407250" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqTujflRHfAwH2ivdcKwRtLsfeKUWXbKVdIkJ_h5QA2UxYfw6q9N7b25e-MoXOeyiuGmyYXcWjMSmIhDQqkQhLAIb6I0DJWLpMtr-j7fm16eOJLyjwQXNNPFUsNsxoyBfYR5w_pDSHl6T/s320/DSC01260.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5cW19u0uHnWuXUop7bUP3r_gxyF-2a2530WStl7j_wNtOWQXtdmcL3n_AgvkObAXR8oMLSLf0YrAs4tuYWggQ87MvQVw5x4oqhLNnNKGg-3c6LQ_EcEDH352h96j9BI6izJxXS9CwlNJ/s1600-h/DSC01253.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872872759504082" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5cW19u0uHnWuXUop7bUP3r_gxyF-2a2530WStl7j_wNtOWQXtdmcL3n_AgvkObAXR8oMLSLf0YrAs4tuYWggQ87MvQVw5x4oqhLNnNKGg-3c6LQ_EcEDH352h96j9BI6izJxXS9CwlNJ/s320/DSC01253.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Singapore is the most expensive place I’ve traveled in this past year. Meals, hotels, and everything else were two to three times more than what I’d expect in other Southeast Asian countries, and much much more than South Asia. You pay the price for clean and orderly.<br />After lunch we walked out on the F1 race course. The grandstands were right behind the Ferris wheel. The track was smooth, and it was so great to look down the finishing straightaway. We straddled the finish line and took photos, while workers dismantling the temporary stands giggled at us. (pics: finish line and grandstands for Singapore's F1 racetrack, myself standing on the F1 finish line)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJJUGxtioZhRGKlCnXSye-QBN7Vt0pPrgcOcMCLbce5VT1SpG7bttA922VKWCA9NY9O1b1lo6Gp-K0_as6bBa6NknbICnyaBpGN_h-PqITnp7IusQhDxVPhdpCrLe8DrEjia9EAeRltwz/s1600-h/DSC01275.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871792239277634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJJUGxtioZhRGKlCnXSye-QBN7Vt0pPrgcOcMCLbce5VT1SpG7bttA922VKWCA9NY9O1b1lo6Gp-K0_as6bBa6NknbICnyaBpGN_h-PqITnp7IusQhDxVPhdpCrLe8DrEjia9EAeRltwz/s320/DSC01275.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiQDH31Nv9Icf09By3fYKbumnylIQOjLETJCkAngGcfAxXNiL7R2yrqPR7R2c3VK3ddyTfLn9K6r41S7n1hzhV6jOZUn1p7PHnvdLNQPxyTG374uFe22RDSpcl1QVmmkfW1SsFscWjVln/s1600-h/DSC01283.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871789144739282" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiQDH31Nv9Icf09By3fYKbumnylIQOjLETJCkAngGcfAxXNiL7R2yrqPR7R2c3VK3ddyTfLn9K6r41S7n1hzhV6jOZUn1p7PHnvdLNQPxyTG374uFe22RDSpcl1QVmmkfW1SsFscWjVln/s320/DSC01283.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We walked through the city some more, passing through the Esplanade Mall, and getting some ice cream on the street. We walked into the financial district and crossed over a small pedestrian bridge over the Singapore River. She brought me to a third mall, this one which had two fountains she really liked, however one was not on and that was disappointing. (pics: Amy on our way to the central business district of Singapore, myself and the Singapore River)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ1rs40t-pHu9TE0UoQGyJIJGDlW7z2BgHZOcptmejbajzosdbBTWLveas1OX64Jz3HKZu9WsJ83okSIN4HZGaUgAMPYRIueDUejeDgDo5fjsYSDwb2cvTzrO_iiVOI_W1NWPeiKL_8Ja/s1600-h/DSC01294.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871789669243570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ1rs40t-pHu9TE0UoQGyJIJGDlW7z2BgHZOcptmejbajzosdbBTWLveas1OX64Jz3HKZu9WsJ83okSIN4HZGaUgAMPYRIueDUejeDgDo5fjsYSDwb2cvTzrO_iiVOI_W1NWPeiKL_8Ja/s320/DSC01294.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14jbA82JbM5v7mEO9JdlDmEOVDV8XoECD6-1TKkiA2TTP566rzSgWbgXWZxkYbv4wfVzag2pHRxevJtKFr3lYpyg3WqJVh-N01BJZHZzm526OSYpkKxa39dGG6TA3BOuqCrehFfaDhgs5/s1600-h/DSC01299.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871783540596226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14jbA82JbM5v7mEO9JdlDmEOVDV8XoECD6-1TKkiA2TTP566rzSgWbgXWZxkYbv4wfVzag2pHRxevJtKFr3lYpyg3WqJVh-N01BJZHZzm526OSYpkKxa39dGG6TA3BOuqCrehFfaDhgs5/s320/DSC01299.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We took a ride on the MRT to Orchard Road, the Rodeo Drive of Singapore, except larger, and not as fancy. We walked down it to the end and made our way, a long walk, to the Botanical Gardens. We passed the US Embassy on the way over. We sat in the botanical gardens for a long time, but less than an hour. We watched the ducks, stared at the water, and talked a bit. The place was huge and we only saw a small part of it.<br />We headed back to Orchard Road looking to get a drink somewhere. One place we sat down at didn’t serve alcohol but we got some mozzarella sticks instead. The second place we found had drinks, so she got an LIT and I got a beer.<br /><br />For Amy’s last meal in Asia we ate dumplings at a Chinese restaurant.<br /><br />By the end of the day, my feet were very sore from walking. We had some beers back at the hostel to end our day. It was our last together in Asia. I would be sad to say goodbye in the morning.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">59th-2nd in Singapore 10/16</span><br /><br />In the morning Amy got up early, it was her time to head to the airport to leave. I walked her the 10 minutes to the MRT stop, and hugged her goodbye as she left to fly to Australia. We both were sad to see each other go. I walked back in the dark to get an hour or two more of sleep before starting my last day in Asia. (pic: Amy leaving me at the MRT station off to catch a train to take her to her flight to Australia)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQ-t6ORu-bsDpwLhIaYr6XFr4qaWP3ZhVOoQHAzT_oGQH6gjDId9oP1ftTVwrtgji0wJ5t57PmwF6vseCadkxnbOu7r4S7RpSt3RgJ9SGg96c_NJfZwioyR18TIbPSytrG92ZB-e9Q0qE/s1600-h/DSC01311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871785854184962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQ-t6ORu-bsDpwLhIaYr6XFr4qaWP3ZhVOoQHAzT_oGQH6gjDId9oP1ftTVwrtgji0wJ5t57PmwF6vseCadkxnbOu7r4S7RpSt3RgJ9SGg96c_NJfZwioyR18TIbPSytrG92ZB-e9Q0qE/s320/DSC01311.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I went to an internet café in the morning. Then went to get breakfast and packed up at the hostel. Complimentary eggs you cook yourself. Had to remove my bag from the dorm room and leave it under the stairs until I was ready to leave later.<br /><br />My goal today was to see the communities in the suburbs of Singapore which are based around an elevated train system called the LRT. These trains meet with the MRT trunk lines of the city system. It creates communities where one can work, play, learn, and live. The MRT ride out took about 40 minutes. I chose a random station far out at the end of the line where these train based communities were. There, I could transfer to the LRT, or shop at the shopping mall which doubled as a transit hub.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6fWL4tlvoPEGw75g5GXBnxIFOoHbVAn_ghWQwI6-KIWthy7DV9idXoJZS2f0ZsLZQhOYoarf25MEy29TmbUfFwX2dWF3Mbr2fcJO2dYRm_xsst3ONS8RpS_tHjopB9bKBd1nii1jPn8F/s1600-h/DSC01316.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871459936655058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6fWL4tlvoPEGw75g5GXBnxIFOoHbVAn_ghWQwI6-KIWthy7DV9idXoJZS2f0ZsLZQhOYoarf25MEy29TmbUfFwX2dWF3Mbr2fcJO2dYRm_xsst3ONS8RpS_tHjopB9bKBd1nii1jPn8F/s320/DSC01316.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: long MRT train)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Very intelligent design. Each stop on the community line served as a hub for the area’s growth. All buildings were centered on it. It was really cool. At the stops there would be a commercial center with shops, and a school nearby, as well as a gym sometimes. This was all centered on transit, enabling everyone to live car-less. (pics: information board on how to connect to the LRT, suburban LRT on its tracks through apartment complexes, clusters of apartments are built around schools and community centers reducing the length of trips people need to take, commercial and residential areas are easily connected to the LRT)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEbVtyzm376e9gwpPW5rDcqe3DOaxfoKlJxGJJthTwMM6dcv56a-YswB1oESKG8IptCpmL05WgEQtfPOb8xohNAJGODYe_h6dxjscFt3tgYCUMOuLV-_s8XzDF_PzkkPJGfga1qOV153x/s1600-h/DSC01319.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871454640167410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEbVtyzm376e9gwpPW5rDcqe3DOaxfoKlJxGJJthTwMM6dcv56a-YswB1oESKG8IptCpmL05WgEQtfPOb8xohNAJGODYe_h6dxjscFt3tgYCUMOuLV-_s8XzDF_PzkkPJGfga1qOV153x/s320/DSC01319.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuhJdl1a-NYZylhIw3daRNd-6yfXtEZ40fbuflzwe_Pyv2zpKiFZuE7Zhbx2T1fl_RmNCOizsqMDF9WWdb4Z0MNodbAJgtSzTnmi47zkM4HkhyodbIJtk80YDcdtxZwqcm8Kgsz1M6uAx/s1600-h/DSC01322.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871449357744050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuhJdl1a-NYZylhIw3daRNd-6yfXtEZ40fbuflzwe_Pyv2zpKiFZuE7Zhbx2T1fl_RmNCOizsqMDF9WWdb4Z0MNodbAJgtSzTnmi47zkM4HkhyodbIJtk80YDcdtxZwqcm8Kgsz1M6uAx/s320/DSC01322.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3UcBTBw8lUnzFgDaSrtByMEhCCW1nEbCTSRhIDE7HFLRw8HiObhyr8qXuwyMcGemsUrjbb067l1AC_ozLDwwnJ4bvQ1G6PMo_kOYVb2PHbSxvWuO0hVTGBNV5dZO4fggiRtD1Zvb_rBZ/s1600-h/DSC01326.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871446632151794" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3UcBTBw8lUnzFgDaSrtByMEhCCW1nEbCTSRhIDE7HFLRw8HiObhyr8qXuwyMcGemsUrjbb067l1AC_ozLDwwnJ4bvQ1G6PMo_kOYVb2PHbSxvWuO0hVTGBNV5dZO4fggiRtD1Zvb_rBZ/s320/DSC01326.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMRCBSFJ496EY5z7wnuOcTzrrB5-H6Ee8FVov7k3Vsi_BUAZk2dlux6yNSsxITXI8bipIOU2zUdLvOb6PcRS7nxSkCv9NojA3UdGzhUtxMy6M_yQgnbpbgXHpwWrEdTgVsEH-LUsmUxKr/s1600-h/DSC01323.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871443360524914" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMRCBSFJ496EY5z7wnuOcTzrrB5-H6Ee8FVov7k3Vsi_BUAZk2dlux6yNSsxITXI8bipIOU2zUdLvOb6PcRS7nxSkCv9NojA3UdGzhUtxMy6M_yQgnbpbgXHpwWrEdTgVsEH-LUsmUxKr/s320/DSC01323.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I’m trying to experience a last bit of Asia, and I think this was a good way. To see where the future of development for these cities can go, and how the transportation links it all. I’m excited to see their future projects.<br />I went back to the mall at the main line transit hub for lunch. Walked around its stores and went to the food court up top. Similar to what I saw in Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur, lots of Asian options with one tiny western food stall. Got to choose which delicacy I wanted. I sat in the food court after eating and absorbed where I was spending my last few hours in Asia.<br /><br />I took the MRT back into the city. I had a postcard from the Singapore flyer yesterday and wanted to mail it out. I’d written a letter to the crew team on it. Finding a place to buy a stamp and then a postbox was difficult for some reason. After getting the stamp from a 7-11, I found a postman but he wouldn’t let me give him the postcard directly. Finally after searching for 20 minutes I found a postbox.<br /><br />I meandered the streets where my hostel was in Little India. Walked through a streetside flea market, not very good or big. Paused to listen to two men speaking Bengali. I went back to the hotel and sat around for a bit. I was done. Nothing else I was wanting to go out and see or do. So I decided to go sit somewhere near a train station and just watch the city go by. So I got my stuff and walked to the MRT stop near us. I sat on a bench and read my book A Good Man in Africa. When it was time to go, I went into the nearby outdoor food court and got one more fresh fruit shake in Asia, my favorite, dragonfruit. I then got on the MRT to take me to the airport. Of course the whole system of getting there was easy and flawless. (pics: the bench and area in which I spent my last time in Singapore reading, the juice stand I got my last dragonfruit juice)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxu5ippNCfREdtK4GkbNw2pEwqJQeU7vbVHCESDWMUY8yOzw_FwxhdVH4jhYBZ0c9bxoPLuNZtzYUdxAjqDX9oj4j1FLFCjIclxzi04IVlbfMAO3u4TKqJr4uKyNQ9m9ZgtAZj5DQvbS0/s1600-h/DSC01334.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871171393169202" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxu5ippNCfREdtK4GkbNw2pEwqJQeU7vbVHCESDWMUY8yOzw_FwxhdVH4jhYBZ0c9bxoPLuNZtzYUdxAjqDX9oj4j1FLFCjIclxzi04IVlbfMAO3u4TKqJr4uKyNQ9m9ZgtAZj5DQvbS0/s320/DSC01334.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZykaP1_WjatH8ZKkAWC42NtKYUDxr8FZ5XFHUx7skW5Ae14GdI_iIlK57z0xow1us2IG6Iz7adW-RnT-x7dYSlCINGEfjemEktWVWIYl_sF4dGGzxPLiTKHpEILe3ek2YNdqN7SfzGMBD/s1600-h/DSC01335.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871174825681042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZykaP1_WjatH8ZKkAWC42NtKYUDxr8FZ5XFHUx7skW5Ae14GdI_iIlK57z0xow1us2IG6Iz7adW-RnT-x7dYSlCINGEfjemEktWVWIYl_sF4dGGzxPLiTKHpEILe3ek2YNdqN7SfzGMBD/s320/DSC01335.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had tried to buy gum for the airplane before leaving, but they don’t sell gum in Singapore. They don’t want you spitting it out on the streets. I wondered if chewing it is punishable by law.<br /><br />Amy had talked about the airport a lot to me. Told me how great it was, free internet, amazing shops, a movie theater inside. Well since I was flying Tiger Airways back to Bangkok, I was not in one of the cool three big terminals. I was in the budget terminal, which to get to, you have to take a shuttle bus from there the train stops. Luxuries are lost when you fly budget. The terminal was empty. I was able to get a muffin for a snack and exchange my Singapore dollars for US dollars. And they still had free internet, which I used. (pic: Singapore's budget terminal which appropriately lacks flair and tons of amenities)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZM6fSuwv0ev65HkTuUpHpT5jAqh-o-f-SFzevFXhRYFHSe31r6pBQ4xPCesj7or7rvJB0qWqKsDWpdeZITV8OLFyCFcPWLxRXfEY7xc4F9-8wCZqVi3ElmOZfKZ5OpZJyouWkDRjYBVK/s1600-h/DSC01339.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871174224987634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZM6fSuwv0ev65HkTuUpHpT5jAqh-o-f-SFzevFXhRYFHSe31r6pBQ4xPCesj7or7rvJB0qWqKsDWpdeZITV8OLFyCFcPWLxRXfEY7xc4F9-8wCZqVi3ElmOZfKZ5OpZJyouWkDRjYBVK/s320/DSC01339.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I waited for my flight. We all got on line. And then they told us the flight was delayed. I started getting really scared. They said one hour we would have to sit there. I only had a six hour window between flights in Bangkok, and had to use that time to get my stuff from the hostel. Worried. Praying. Worried. And then we left. It ended up being only a half hour delay. Phew. Should still have plenty of time to do what I needed to do in Bangkok.<br /><br />The flight was fine. Everything went smooth. I arrived in Bangkok and rushed as fast as I could to leave the airport. Honestly, it felt like all the staff was rushing with me, because all necessary steps such as immigration and getting transport went TOO smoothly. No lines anywhere. In my mind I imagined everyone knew I had limited time and was helping me out.<br />I found the shuttle bus easy to take me to the bus terminal. It was packed. We got to the bus terminal and I got on the bus to take me to the hostel. I had budgeted this out all perfectly. I knew where to get off and paid the bus conductor. Really feel like Bangkok is very familiar now. Getting off at Sukhumvit Road near the hostel and walking there was like walking up my driveway.<br />I arrived and gladly presented my claim receipts for my stored luggage. Everything was safe, laptop and all. I dragged my now six bags into the dining room, spread it all out on the floor and set to work combining all my possessions into my four travel bags. No problem at all. A New Zealander was watching me do it, and we chatted while I packed. I also overheard an American guy talking about having to pick his wife up from the airport, so I asked him if he’d like to split a taxi when I had to go. We would be heading there around the same time anyway.<br />I had enough time, budgeted well, and packed so fast, that I could even take a shower at the hostel. Refreshing to spruce up for the long flights.<br /><br />The guy and I got in our taxi around 10:30 pm to head to the airport. On the forty five minute ride there he told me all about his time living in the Phillipines, and that place in general and how he met his wife there.<br />He helped me bring my bags into the terminal then went downstairs to arrivals to wait for his wife. I went to check in and found out my big bag was too heavy, my small bag still had room to spare. So I sat down in the check-in area and started transferring things to the smaller bag. Walked back over and now everything was in the proper weight range, 24 kg for each bag! They didn’t give me any trouble about what carry-ons I had. Was real happy not to have issues like I did leaving Dhaka. The check-in lady was really helpful and explained everything very clearly too me. Just the opposite of what I had at JFK leaving 13 months ago. At the end, she told me I looked very handsome when I smile. Not a bad way to start a trip home. (pics: repacking my bags so the make weight in the Bangkok airport, my flight to Seoul/Incheon and the start of my trip home)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjokScQF-AUfoEAp2joM_LhvZlYH9KSnYPOteKtW24PNuptmJV2N7p3YSUbx8VKdcKoUYSVVNVsqlpV9U9hT_bO2OKkqKTos_GEvb1kNegke0WCg_0ns9VjY1cgFOMEVrbpAM01PeCom1H_/s1600-h/DSC01343.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871177257176690" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjokScQF-AUfoEAp2joM_LhvZlYH9KSnYPOteKtW24PNuptmJV2N7p3YSUbx8VKdcKoUYSVVNVsqlpV9U9hT_bO2OKkqKTos_GEvb1kNegke0WCg_0ns9VjY1cgFOMEVrbpAM01PeCom1H_/s320/DSC01343.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-khV1Jfjxnmr0Qr5rOe_LgpZdk73PxKLlFlgYOCacZQ2VwNI7D60g2TEiT0SYKhyphenhyphenXvTFiOnMajAD4qcv3FskiSYtqB1Itt5HBmqZ6IoQ24NAGPmeSBulEaMdNZPax7NuivWtKnCRP0l1/s1600-h/DSC01347.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289871184987953586" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-khV1Jfjxnmr0Qr5rOe_LgpZdk73PxKLlFlgYOCacZQ2VwNI7D60g2TEiT0SYKhyphenhyphenXvTFiOnMajAD4qcv3FskiSYtqB1Itt5HBmqZ6IoQ24NAGPmeSBulEaMdNZPax7NuivWtKnCRP0l1/s320/DSC01347.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It’s so weird how you can never really picture your last day somewhere. I never thought I’d be cooking eggs or riding a suburban monorail on my last day. Or sitting and reading by a subway stop. Or walking through a junk fair. But I did. I kind of like that life doesn’t make the important days anything special.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">59th-3rd on the flights to Newark 10/17</span><br /><br />In the airport I got Burger King for dinner. A wonderful American way to transition back, and also within my budget of the last of my Baht. I then slowly meandered the airport. I had a few more Baht and used it to buy some peanuts for the flight, in case I got hungry beyond what they served.<br /><br />My flight was on time. Korean Airways flight left at 1:30 AM carrying me from Bangkok to Seoul. My flight schedule was tight, with just an hour in between flights in Seoul, and an hour and half in Atlanta before heading to Newark.<br /><br />The first flight was fine. Most people were sleeping. I didn’t doze off much, I don’t sleep usually on planes. Before we landed they served us breakfast. I chose the Korean meal over the western one, and I regretted it. What they served me was a bland hot cereal, yet served cold. In order to flavor it they give us dried seaweed flakes to spread on top.<br /><br />We deplaned in Seoul, and I had 40 minutes until boarding the next flight. We all had to go through security, and it was a bunch of novices handling it. They moved slowly and cautiously beyond what I’d ever seen. They also seemed very confused at times, and kept having to phone out questions. All of us transferring were very nervous. And they only had one line! I’m lucky I had gotten there near the front or I would’ve been a wreck.<br />Well the one problem of the trip home happened here, I had forgotten to take my pocketknife out of my carry-on luggage when I repacked my bags in Bangkok. So they confiscated it and had to wrap it up and put it in a pouch underneath the airplane. This is the knife my Uncle Frank got me for my Bar Mitzvah 10 years ago. Didn’t want to just say throw it out. It took them 20 minutes until someone came to retrieve the knife. I had to sign some forms.<br />Finally I was on my way and could go to my gate. Already there was a long line. But there were no issues after that. I checked in, went through two more rounds of security, and finally got to sit on my trans-Pacific flight home.<br /><br />The man next to me was handicapped. I had wanted an aisle seat but they were all taken when I had checked-in in Bangkok. So I was in the middle. That meant every time I wanted to pee, I had to get past him. I especially don’t like climbing over people when they are sleeping, and that’s what he did the whole time. I had to make sure to use the toilet when he called the stewardess to assist him in getting to the restroom. He was out of his seat enough time to use the toilet myself and stand around stretching for a bit. He got up twice in the whole 12 hour flight. I was proud of myself to stay seated that long.<br /><br />On the flight I watched four and a half movies: Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Kung-Fu Panda, The Promotion, and Hancock and made it a bit through Get Smart before I turned it off.<br />The food on this second flight had the same two options, Korean or western. Well clearly one would think that I learned my lesson with my first Korean breakfast, but I hadn’t, I took the Korean lunch. This wasn’t as bad; we got noodle soup, but it was extremely seaweed salty. The not so great part was the bitter/sour side dish, which of the pieces items, I only ate one.<br />So after those first two experiences with Korean Airways Korean dishes, you think I would take the western dinner. Nope. For dinner I chose Korean again, and I got a rice dish. Again, didn’t like it, and the dessert was hard for me to eat as well. Oh well. I may not have liked these foods much, but I was glad to taste Korean food (apart from the Korean BBQs you find in the US) regardless.<br /><br />On the whole, since I left Singapore until I landed in Newark; I think I slept maybe a total of 4 hours. But never once did I really feel tired.<br /><br />We landed in Atlanta and I immigrated. No issues. Was upset not to get a stamp for entering America, but policy is policy. The bag management system was easy. I picked up my bags, and didn’t have to go to any counters to check them back in, just put them on a second carousel after going through customs. I waited for fifteen minutes to get my knife, but it never came out of the baggage claim. Thought it was gone forever. Asked a man if there was any other places it would come out and he advised me to check oversized baggage claim. He was right, there it was. My little knife buried amongst all the big baggage.<br /><br />Being back in America after one year was not as shocking as people claim it to be. I was happy to walk through the airport and hear southern accents again, and see the clothing. I was excited; nervous only a bit. I was hungry in the airport, and since the flight to Newark didn’t have any special food, I finally ate the peanuts I had picked up in Bangkok; the entire bag in the Atlanta airport. Actually, reflecting on the whole time I was in the airport, I did feel a bit uneasy at first being back in America. It’s been so long, and I felt like I stood out, for no reason at all. Again I was nervous, but not as emotional as I thought I would be. It was petty incredible when we finally flew into American airspace over Washington state. I was beaming then. Later touching down on American soil was pretty cool too.<br /><br />The flight to Newark seemed short and quick. I was glad to land. To my surprise, when I walked out of the gate, my sister Sandee was standing there. My first thought was, “What is she doing past security?” Then I realized that she should be at the University of Florida. She told me she flew up just for this weekend to see me, first time in 15 months. It was so great ot see her. I had no clue she would be there. Together we walked through the terminal and she told me how she asked security if she could go to the gate to pick up her “little brother”, but my whole family is sure she just got by on good looks. At the other end of the terminal we met our parents. We all hugged, picked up my bags, and walked out of the airport to the car.<br /><br />On the way home we got Subway.<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-44548405790066170222008-12-27T10:38:00.027+06:002008-12-29T23:21:27.564+06:00Week 58: If you gave me the paddle, I'd probably kayak us all the way from Angkor Wat to Kuala Lumpur<div><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-1st in Siem Reap 10/8</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />We were up early to see Angkor Wat. Our driver showed up late, and I almost had found us another guy to take us. We got breakfast on the way, myself some noodles, Amy an egg sandwich. The tickets were expensive, but they take your photo and put in on your pass. The whole system was incredibly well done. (pic: myself with my Angkor ticket)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiybceC6UPtNweX2Z4Y9CWS0FTouHfIsvDdCHHJZCqsAMOz7zJekTBk-ZXHeIA9_mg7v4aSKJfPiYfARKyQwLauskXU-w0QBA3iyHItQ1YoxoSQA28q7rWtIwyf6P-i7p55SC_lxGVvCk/s1600-h/DSC00545.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332440812293682" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiybceC6UPtNweX2Z4Y9CWS0FTouHfIsvDdCHHJZCqsAMOz7zJekTBk-ZXHeIA9_mg7v4aSKJfPiYfARKyQwLauskXU-w0QBA3iyHItQ1YoxoSQA28q7rWtIwyf6P-i7p55SC_lxGVvCk/s320/DSC00545.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Angkor Wat was stunning. Too bad part of it was under repair. It still was impressive. Although, I thought it was supposed to be taller. I need to look back at my architectural history books to see the images they showed of these places, and recall how I had imagined things looking back then. (pics: Angkor Wat, myself in front of the backside of Angkor Wat, inside the second gallery with the third up above, Amy/myself in front of Angkor Wat)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyn3_IC6dVNa8SNqjBmHiXBqIyF9FcAURuJdRiBh_iIFf70N8DDiiMxJY8oOYHwDuH_enJrHXfkmOcuzY7TEXFYGYzB6OPT_IugcE8GgmORWEFKqU_c2vqAzH9csu8gzmoXD5Geic2Uo-/s1600-h/DSC00593.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332278924172322" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyn3_IC6dVNa8SNqjBmHiXBqIyF9FcAURuJdRiBh_iIFf70N8DDiiMxJY8oOYHwDuH_enJrHXfkmOcuzY7TEXFYGYzB6OPT_IugcE8GgmORWEFKqU_c2vqAzH9csu8gzmoXD5Geic2Uo-/s320/DSC00593.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGOkuzo64UPvcnok3S2oiNZmZvRNqX2KJgsdMec5NZshFtOF0Lf0rA0vBt99XWwFoG86zbFFotTb9algpg0OlJPMLxyfZ7axwhmeEDCbDr02vm4BO2W_c_0cj2-5We0OlS8rAaLZy85Qs/s1600-h/DSC00588.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332284868591042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGOkuzo64UPvcnok3S2oiNZmZvRNqX2KJgsdMec5NZshFtOF0Lf0rA0vBt99XWwFoG86zbFFotTb9algpg0OlJPMLxyfZ7axwhmeEDCbDr02vm4BO2W_c_0cj2-5We0OlS8rAaLZy85Qs/s320/DSC00588.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM4djkknWSb-VvUl0DMmqK_XsVpN5ddHnkwBaRqxkcs-gM9CXN8ORrTubTOHMwM9xg59ffv8K8X4EPev8b3C6LBVvuZVzfy3LrNNXPUNDZ5QJxjTGky821srle8cMGMaQMadlNrbxjtiY/s1600-h/DSC00572.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332296289264146" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM4djkknWSb-VvUl0DMmqK_XsVpN5ddHnkwBaRqxkcs-gM9CXN8ORrTubTOHMwM9xg59ffv8K8X4EPev8b3C6LBVvuZVzfy3LrNNXPUNDZ5QJxjTGky821srle8cMGMaQMadlNrbxjtiY/s320/DSC00572.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbplPzkk0riFCM2rY9VH8FRHqwL8IR5AGlAtwAAK0KwjGTypsRQjiW0GSk7ZG4viBbR84vE5aTG2e2Zp5l0RcWLK_7ViQZcoZMsXFe9F1PJI-WSyuCgIEj7UW_QdnEh8nzBnEDHqKjGyI7/s1600-h/DSC00603.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332270559394418" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbplPzkk0riFCM2rY9VH8FRHqwL8IR5AGlAtwAAK0KwjGTypsRQjiW0GSk7ZG4viBbR84vE5aTG2e2Zp5l0RcWLK_7ViQZcoZMsXFe9F1PJI-WSyuCgIEj7UW_QdnEh8nzBnEDHqKjGyI7/s320/DSC00603.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My first camera battery only had 24 minutes left, and my second was still at the hotel, so I had to play conservation all day. It was tough. I kept the screen turned off, and only turned the camera on quickly to take a photo using the viewfinder, and then quickly turned it off. I also was careful in the pictures I chose.<br /><br />At our second stop of the day at Angkor Thom It started to pour. We had just finished seeing two temples in this area when it really started coming down. At that time we ran underneath to a restaurant our guide was at and ordered lunch. We explored two more temples in this area after it had stopped raining. (pics: myself at the gate of Angkor Thom, the faces made of stone of Angkor Thom, myself inside Angkor Thom, Amy in the Phlmeanakas temple)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQx4HXjbcA6pwLooAdaePVmNVayYXV0-qif0McIqEZNKZGJUNH9wLb544k_xCQ5YB7iUtCnHlUpmxOTW25OOcxn83bxXH8X-PgvRMIooyottlbai2h3lusJfepdchI1ZmBrEWv7jbAfPM/s1600-h/DSC00609.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332264395625442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQx4HXjbcA6pwLooAdaePVmNVayYXV0-qif0McIqEZNKZGJUNH9wLb544k_xCQ5YB7iUtCnHlUpmxOTW25OOcxn83bxXH8X-PgvRMIooyottlbai2h3lusJfepdchI1ZmBrEWv7jbAfPM/s320/DSC00609.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxZk2MwXDUAFcmLgxQwpZCOmNEgO84tNeL2JCnUKPVSu_7QkWudRH-WAAfQNz3EtRayXA_ZzWXddlkBuam1ind7QyFxnLjG3vrlYJFRjpEjp6qKpsw0N5ZcDujGpc2GEbu-Awuraehtgy/s1600-h/DSC00638.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332031218154290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxZk2MwXDUAFcmLgxQwpZCOmNEgO84tNeL2JCnUKPVSu_7QkWudRH-WAAfQNz3EtRayXA_ZzWXddlkBuam1ind7QyFxnLjG3vrlYJFRjpEjp6qKpsw0N5ZcDujGpc2GEbu-Awuraehtgy/s320/DSC00638.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexMnjq7IrJEh9QcVKAXIATszU6Tlz8PH3kKRRIYOausABiJbGhAy_ixsult4XcBRoLrt8hCr0aoFSpT1BrN2pnZV3g5Yn9IN4yjXiT4WsW79axiyZvnb8YlRyX-uEC2kfFPWfZU86urpR/s1600-h/DSC00641.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332022045247250" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexMnjq7IrJEh9QcVKAXIATszU6Tlz8PH3kKRRIYOausABiJbGhAy_ixsult4XcBRoLrt8hCr0aoFSpT1BrN2pnZV3g5Yn9IN4yjXiT4WsW79axiyZvnb8YlRyX-uEC2kfFPWfZU86urpR/s320/DSC00641.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhM_c03w2il5dBVsZeAv728evYTo-AFc58ol-O_wMiFcQ7ohKaeuy6wm_r8oIh4qW7Ubqw3GvYsY6AqfrxUvEq_wLsf4xMKk8g2QjwduRuB8k2br9-h0S2SzoYT_KzZDEmywS9dxEqCpgv/s1600-h/DSC00650.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332011521878274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhM_c03w2il5dBVsZeAv728evYTo-AFc58ol-O_wMiFcQ7ohKaeuy6wm_r8oIh4qW7Ubqw3GvYsY6AqfrxUvEq_wLsf4xMKk8g2QjwduRuB8k2br9-h0S2SzoYT_KzZDEmywS9dxEqCpgv/s320/DSC00650.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Angkor site is immense. I didn’t realize how big it was. You have to drive from temple to temple and it takes several minutes. Taking the tuk-tuk around was necessary, and actually added a bit to the experience. (pic: Amy and our tuk-tuk driver pulling up)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5Bx-prUSoiKQjJKwoj7jH2Hv93VxsjEUiXcVzYShfwdMsoovlS6VU17fNx-SZ8EZM4Fsy_aTVeqAp8zpK_UWXw3VPaJh00GZs9NUoO_03DLD34qPuDyNP7gIufEtIyiC1jojPbHzx3II/s1600-h/DSC00652.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284332004786221442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5Bx-prUSoiKQjJKwoj7jH2Hv93VxsjEUiXcVzYShfwdMsoovlS6VU17fNx-SZ8EZM4Fsy_aTVeqAp8zpK_UWXw3VPaJh00GZs9NUoO_03DLD34qPuDyNP7gIufEtIyiC1jojPbHzx3II/s320/DSC00652.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All the places we stopped at were of a good variety. Two were Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, but the others were either overgrown or not completely finished. Although you can get multiple day passes to Angkor, I think one day is fine for me. The temple Ta Prohm, overgrown by trees, was a neat spot. Angkor Wat itself though was definitely my favorite though. (pics: myself inside Ta Prohm and one of its overgrown trees, an tree growing on top of Ta Prohm)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-F6WRGkvhFFxEwCzeCcL6jjr2zU77GNFjCdVLlG9qZJ95-kOXgpRvBrhTsJbnFJDSTc_95OvoVG1SXYxBzlWTwSbzO6SRL7yrwuni2_g3Q-4gw_SYr1wRCfRBStCtW9yZuszaVW3bJUWf/s1600-h/DSC00667.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331083144170386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-F6WRGkvhFFxEwCzeCcL6jjr2zU77GNFjCdVLlG9qZJ95-kOXgpRvBrhTsJbnFJDSTc_95OvoVG1SXYxBzlWTwSbzO6SRL7yrwuni2_g3Q-4gw_SYr1wRCfRBStCtW9yZuszaVW3bJUWf/s320/DSC00667.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkZXhun9W6DY1E-aGPlePnDgKFe3R7dpuS0dti9GrNUg__O-vzoE4ohKPfxIjyjz3EFiLY9OYhbVlzJVH_otsY8nkhyphenhyphenUzlqcUynC2DiGnRuMAMIMOGgdJIDy3tdeSuE4qJrZR5E6gEq3L/s1600-h/DSC00670.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331085481819474" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkZXhun9W6DY1E-aGPlePnDgKFe3R7dpuS0dti9GrNUg__O-vzoE4ohKPfxIjyjz3EFiLY9OYhbVlzJVH_otsY8nkhyphenhyphenUzlqcUynC2DiGnRuMAMIMOGgdJIDy3tdeSuE4qJrZR5E6gEq3L/s320/DSC00670.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At each place we went, there were lots of hawkers. More than I’d seen anywhere else in Asia, and asking for outrageous prices. The high prices for things are a result of them selling only for American dollars, meaning the lowest price you might get is $0.33 when you buy 3 for $1.00. I wasn’t interested in buying as usual. Amy enjoys souvenirs more, and had purchased a few items by the time we had left the many sites. Kids were the primary sellers of the souvenirs and snacks. I actually ended up buying one small item, but even then I told the girl I claimed I only had Cambodia Riel, and we carried out the purchase in that currency instead. (pic: Amy buying nick-nacks from a kid)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfY7OM8qpFok7XYyTHQD9bjty__CjpI94ABeUNvi1aoIdWLWJp79UQR7_Nyqr6Htr28tmFhuWazfR2PyUF3iXkSE7MfUTfpqdFddQXkJucDf10m3X7EEnVf4DBr0QcMit15ZoaKZVlHT5W/s1600-h/DSC00656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331962390277826" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfY7OM8qpFok7XYyTHQD9bjty__CjpI94ABeUNvi1aoIdWLWJp79UQR7_Nyqr6Htr28tmFhuWazfR2PyUF3iXkSE7MfUTfpqdFddQXkJucDf10m3X7EEnVf4DBr0QcMit15ZoaKZVlHT5W/s320/DSC00656.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The tuk-tuk took us back around 4pm. We spent our last bit of time sitting by a lake near a temple and reading. We had dinner at a barbecue-it-yourself place. It was a buffet of items, and you took what you wanted and brought it back to cook it. We had some trouble at first, but the staff was super helpful. We had a lot of fun preparing the food. (pics: myself grilling a variety of foods, Amy at dinner)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpcrcf9hJa9v-a7SXF3yTCT9iCdWy7IrXu0FX5Z9MyId8u63Gk_Jjifn_NIX1dVXiSwY6WGUVCKCeyl5Y6_5xh-DZbWFhAX17nez9-j5-SCNxjjzMzQYFPS6XOdDTjoN2BKh_6hjsM-wu/s1600-h/DSC00693.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331061578688514" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpcrcf9hJa9v-a7SXF3yTCT9iCdWy7IrXu0FX5Z9MyId8u63Gk_Jjifn_NIX1dVXiSwY6WGUVCKCeyl5Y6_5xh-DZbWFhAX17nez9-j5-SCNxjjzMzQYFPS6XOdDTjoN2BKh_6hjsM-wu/s320/DSC00693.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nWd-sLDGtgcLT4vSIk4AocFMuBkKb0zTEGGFXRwbayyMlmcnm_yDhOTM5YQ7RhbHuSTS3tpCxnf8kf8e3JkWCut6v4PR52rd6ox9t6aWG1xogI1hreDN94EucFzUUXfCXPuX1w4WSxMJ/s1600-h/DSC00692.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331071574619938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nWd-sLDGtgcLT4vSIk4AocFMuBkKb0zTEGGFXRwbayyMlmcnm_yDhOTM5YQ7RhbHuSTS3tpCxnf8kf8e3JkWCut6v4PR52rd6ox9t6aWG1xogI1hreDN94EucFzUUXfCXPuX1w4WSxMJ/s320/DSC00692.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />58th-2nd on bus to Bangkok 10/9</span><br /><br />Our bus picked us up for the ride to Bangkok on time. It was a packed bus with air conditioning, but it didn’t work. The road to Thailand is the worst you’ll ever see. It’s dirt almost all the way to the Thai border. Granted, it’s under construction, but it’s infamous for being slow and dusty. I’m sure in two years it’ll be fine. There is some rumor that some airline company is paying to keep it in bad shape to force people to fly, and it got annoying to hear people repeat the same thing repeatedly. (pic: Amy and the rough road from Siem Reap to the Thai border)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyu0uh7VLuHQ4Uja8zjRHJTxMmemuIcPor2_evC9XTP10l77-1OiixNiC5OKbUGC9fTdOqHb11ngoLSovxNXD7vz_f9y9YQ53aeGfww_nr94xhRzt38XBfG94XeOKKZafHpRMftOzBNBK/s1600-h/DSC00703.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284331058693158770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyu0uh7VLuHQ4Uja8zjRHJTxMmemuIcPor2_evC9XTP10l77-1OiixNiC5OKbUGC9fTdOqHb11ngoLSovxNXD7vz_f9y9YQ53aeGfww_nr94xhRzt38XBfG94XeOKKZafHpRMftOzBNBK/s320/DSC00703.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I ended up sitting next to a UNC student! Incredible, I travel all over the world to get as far as I can from Tar Heels, and here is one next to me. Seriously, I was pleasantly surprised. Granted, I had seen a Tar Heel in July when Emily visited. Anyway, him and I talked a lot about the state of North Carolina, football, basketball, and sports in general. He had just finished covering the Olympics in Beijing<br /><br />The border was actually surprisingly easy, after all the build up that we’d face difficulties. It was nicer than any border I saw in India, Nepal, and Bangladesh. I guess it was a bit sketchier than the others we’ve crossed in Southeast Asia, but it was clean and quick.<br /><br />Our bus was split up into two minibuses, and these zoomed us to Bangkok super fast. It was fun for me to finally approach the city by car, and see the highways start to widen and more overpasses pop up, and then see the start of the skyline. (pics: approaching Bangkok on massive superhighways, slipping past Bangkok on the highway)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuh1730fyxH8Uvntzco8PPnda4Rx56kOJ-AVog66Q4ZqgnUbj7tui0vinWVD_3IMztljXdDZtju41PtsQdAwURKr9yMG25Sfszvjl5wZgAIhLWSiWriJOUwKkW4gSBovtBMpaTwAhkVwS-/s1600-h/DSC00712.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330786024737058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuh1730fyxH8Uvntzco8PPnda4Rx56kOJ-AVog66Q4ZqgnUbj7tui0vinWVD_3IMztljXdDZtju41PtsQdAwURKr9yMG25Sfszvjl5wZgAIhLWSiWriJOUwKkW4gSBovtBMpaTwAhkVwS-/s320/DSC00712.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCaSw5I4JJoDglKrmA0boTbwpBCsdllruL3xqlmj6NqkuFUFMltR_RdCt3qaiJ8SzH6wSwbua8rztiBzpx2O9Cdv-5ftMlhNCRkcU41uB6P5ijPsaGMYcmrU5-LiG5F4dZUy2rIC_VEc7/s1600-h/DSC00716.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330784647674306" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCaSw5I4JJoDglKrmA0boTbwpBCsdllruL3xqlmj6NqkuFUFMltR_RdCt3qaiJ8SzH6wSwbua8rztiBzpx2O9Cdv-5ftMlhNCRkcU41uB6P5ijPsaGMYcmrU5-LiG5F4dZUy2rIC_VEc7/s320/DSC00716.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />They dropped us off at the train station where we could easily catch the subway back to our hostel. From the subway we transferred to the BTS. It was neat to come back to the place we had started it all.<br />At the BTS stop we had boarded from, a song started playing over the station’s loudspeakers. Amy and I didn’t know what it was but everyone instantly froze. They remained standing where they were until the song finished. When the song ended, everyone started moving again. I’d never seen anything like it.<br /><br />My bags were safe, including my laptop. Felt great to see it again and know things were okay. Coming back to this hostel was like returning to a sort of home. It felt very relaxing and calming.<br /><br />This evening Amy got sick. She was feeling sick on the BTS, and walking from the station to the hostel made it worse. After checking in, she threw up in the bathroom.<br />We went out to dinner but Amy wasn’t too hungry. We ate at an outdoor restaurant in a parking lot. The menu they handed us was all in Thai. We tried describing what we wanted, but that didn’t work. Then two guys who had been chuckling at us decided to help. One came over and asked in English what we wanted. We got some soup and a rice and curry dish. Despite having just thrown up, it looked to me that Amy ate normally.<br /><br />She went back to the hostel for some rest, so I went out and explored alone. I headed to the mall near our BTS station. I was thinking about getting a McDonalds hamburger, but the cheap part of me decided against it and I just admired the menu instead. Earlier, anyway, I had bought a milkshake on the streetside.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-3rd in Bangkok 10/10</span><br /><br />I woke up early, showered, shaved, and checked in my bag again with the laptop. I then sat around for Amy to get up.<br />Amy was still feeling sick this morning; she had thrown up again last night. I didn’t even hear her get up. So today she was tired and still sick. Didn’t know what to do to help her, so I just tried to keep her relaxed.<br /><br />We had considered going around Bangkok today after buying our bus ticket. We weren’t exactly sure what time the bus would leave so we’d have to go there first. This was a real problem in SE Asia. Everywhere we went, we got conflicting information on bus schedules, and we didn’t know what to trust.<br />I hadn’t realized how far out the bus station was. In fact, it was a real good thing we took a taxi, because no mass transit service, besides buses, went there. We found the ticket counter for Phuket upstairs. The whole building, called the Southern Bus Terminal, has lots of shopping and restaurants. It’s exactly what terminals in the US should be trying to do. With Amy sick, and the bus terminal being unconnected to the transit system, we decided to scrap exploring Bangkok.<br /><br />All day we sat in the bus terminal. We were there for about 7 hours. She was back and forth to the bathroom. I sat there and in the spurts of time she was able to sit at the bench, I went and got food to eat. There was a cool Thai food court upstairs with all different types of Thai entrees. They had pictures, making it very easy to order. I also got some doughnuts from Mister Donut. And I had dinner at a fast food place unique to Thailand. For me it was a fun culinary day. (pics: inside Bangkok's Southern Bus Terminal where we spent the day, the food court upstairs in the bus terminal with a wonderful array of options)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbEKU1VmhXOKNDGgOTdo71zKxcBa9r-zNPWcxzDhrHbBWwZ-fwcfpAtIdIb0WFTIy_dgq_9WKyASzfY7TPWOTdmqmxVCxOiQkjemMlHJYODsDU3bFIGs9rVj0a25ElPXxRvG2JXdnxLdb/s1600-h/DSC00717.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330775254933586" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbEKU1VmhXOKNDGgOTdo71zKxcBa9r-zNPWcxzDhrHbBWwZ-fwcfpAtIdIb0WFTIy_dgq_9WKyASzfY7TPWOTdmqmxVCxOiQkjemMlHJYODsDU3bFIGs9rVj0a25ElPXxRvG2JXdnxLdb/s320/DSC00717.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVwcvjNOmKWW6x2gsQqLYxbfXUEAluMGMzJzJQH0bCqpN1CebGFVMwfILImczxWf6ec0JrRDp7r13ThDTDZACsZ1RuCnE8EcHsARzRkEcAQBbAoGX_GpPKzFRTf0YF7Aw0tkK5PhM0AjS/s1600-h/DSC00721.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330771044132514" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVwcvjNOmKWW6x2gsQqLYxbfXUEAluMGMzJzJQH0bCqpN1CebGFVMwfILImczxWf6ec0JrRDp7r13ThDTDZACsZ1RuCnE8EcHsARzRkEcAQBbAoGX_GpPKzFRTf0YF7Aw0tkK5PhM0AjS/s320/DSC00721.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All day I worked on reading a new book that Amy had picked up called “The Void”, a true story about two mountain climbers who go through an unimaginable ordeal. Its good, I fly through it, despite the pages of slightly technical climbing talk which I had to reason out what they were talking about.<br /><br />Luckily, after the stressful sick day, Amy was feeling better for the bus ride. Since there was a bathroom on board and it was clean, we only had to stop once the whole time. It was 7 hours into the 12 hour trip, and we could get dinner as well. I bought some snacks and fruit, but was not going to eat a big meal.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-4th in Phuket 10/11</span><br /><br />We arrived in Phuket at 5:30 AM. My suggestion was to sit at the open air bus station until it was light enough to find a hotel. But Amy asked if I could go and find one right away. So I set out and started walking around the area near the bus station for a cheap place to stay. I was unsuccessful. The bad part was getting barked at and followed by a wild pack of dogs. I came back with my negative report, and that wasn’t really what she’d been hoping for.<br />So I went and asked a taxi driver if he knew a cheap place in our price range. He did, but was going to charge us an arm and a leg to get there. So I asked a motorcycle taxi driver the same thing. He knew a place for 300 Baht a night, and wouldn’t charge much to take us. So we got another motorcycle taxi guy and retrieved Amy. We boarded, and arrived at our shabby hotel. It was bare minimum, but just fine for us. We got in, and she laid down in the bed and went to sleep. I tried as well, but wasn’t tired. I got up and decided to go for a walk.<br /><br />I walked down the road of our hotel. This part of Phuket, the town itself is not beachy. It is a decently sized city but had no major buildings. I saw a place that was serving a Chinese breakfast and sat down to eat dumplings, soup, and some sweet patties.<br /><br />I roamed in the direction of the bus station again to check to see when we could catch the bus to the airport two mornings from now. While I was there, I figured I’d see when I could get a sea kayak tour booked for us tomorrow. I stopped into an office and the guy there informed we could go today, but only if we let him know in the next half hour. The prices were expensive as I expected, but he said he could discount them, almost 30% off! He handed me one brochure, said there were spots left on this tour and another company’s same tour.<br />So I ran back to our hotel, literally ran. Woke Amy up, and asked her if she’d want to go. She’d wanted to, but it was really the one thing I’d really been pushing. Once she heard the price, and in her post-sick state, we came to the agreement that it was better I just go alone today, letting her rest, and tomorrow we could spend at the beach together. She was happy for me because she knew I’d really wanted to do this.<br /><br />I’d been looking forward to sea kayaking in Thailand since my friend Farabi had told me all about his time kayaking back in July. It sounded awesome. They got to go alone out on the water and explore as they pleased. They’d been out for hours. I was really looking forward to doing this, especially amongst the limestone cliffs that are found in this area.<br /><br />I called the guy up, and said I’d be coming. I changed, then literally ran to find an ATM to get the money, then ran back to the tour office. I was sweating by the time I arrived. The guy told me the first tour got booked up while I was gone, so he had put me on a tour with the second company running the same thing with the same price. He had me get on a bike with his coworker who would speed me across town to the pickup spot.<br />The ride was crazy. I’m now more used to taking motorcycles in Southeast Asia, but this was ridiculous. I’d never seen a guy zip and zoom so quick. Felt like a video game and I was strapped on back. We arrived at the pickup spot for vans. He searched out which company was mine. He found it, and I got in. had to sit in back, and two very nice Australians on their honeymoon were next to me. I asked if this was the sea kayaking tour, and they said yes we are doing that, but the tour also going to James Bond Island, and elephant rides, and goes to a Muslim sea village. I wondered why I was put on this tour, but as we sped quickly down the road, I realized there was nothing I could do. I decided that this tour wouldn’t be so horrible, although I had really wanted to go sea kayaking all day as the program had said.<br /><br />A few hours later I was not as passive about having to take a tour I hadn’t really wanted. We only got to go kayaking for 45 minutes, and even then, we were paddled around by someone else. The James bond island was cool and the Muslim sea village was just a lunch stop. When we arrived at the elephant riding, I was denied a ride by the tour’s leader. He said I had only paid for the morning’s activities. He showed me his typed up list of tourists where my name was scribbled in pencil and next to which it was written that I’d only paid 1200 Baht. I told him I paid 2000 Baht that morning to the booking agency, but he had his records though, and told me I couldn’t, they had only gotten 1200 of that 2000. It meant the tour office pocketed 800, and I recalled when I got dropped off with the tour van seeing the biker take some money, but at the time I figured that all tour agents got their cut. Didn’t realize it had left me with nothing to do while the rest of the group went elephant riding.<br />The tour leader himself felt badly for me after I told him the whole situation. He went ahead and called the government tourism board and asked to be connected with my booking guy. They talked for awhile and then he handed the phone to me. I explain to the guy who had booked me what was up, and he said he was not aware that I had wanted to go kayaking all day, only that I had wanted to go kayaking. He claimed he assumed anything with kayaking, even just 45 minutes of it, would be satisfactory to me. He said I could come back to his office so we can talk. Meanwhile I sat at the elephant riding place doing nothing except steaming. I had paid all that money, more than everyone else on that tour it turned out, and was the one sitting out wasting part of my two days in Phuket.<br />The tour leader who was compassionate gave me a free copy of the photo they had taken of us when we were kayaking. It was an expensive gift, and it was really nice of them to do it.<br /><br />They took us back, and I was dropped off at the booking office. I was really angry. The booker insisted again that he didn’t know I wanted to go kayaking all day. He said he would refund me 200 Baht, the price difference between what he said I had done and what I had paid him. That was baloney, because the tour leader showed me how it had cost only 1200 Baht. He showed me a pamphlet which he claimed was the tour I went on (note, a different tour than the agency running the “same” tour he told I’d be with this morning) to defend his argument. It was not even the tour I’d been on. I sat there, shocked and thinking of what to do for about 20 minutes. They wouldn’t budge for whatever I said. So I took the 200 baht, angry, and left. I walked back to the hotel and told Amy what happened. She felt so bad for me, knowing this was supposed to have been my trip’s highlight, but was now my trip’s disaster.<br /><br />Although a bummer of a day, the kayaking itself was good. I was glad I got to do it, even for those 45 minutes. We went in and out of limestone caves, through waterways passing below the cliffs. We each had someone paddling us around, but I was the only one form the tour who who paddled myself for a bit. I had asked my guide if I could, and he had no problem with it, and laid back and lit a cigarette. Really glad I got the chance and made the most of my time. It made the 45 minutes extra special, maneuvering the kayak myself in and out of places was really awesome. (pics: winding along the limestone cliffs in sea kayaks, passing through caves, the limestone cliffs that we paddled through, myself getting the chance to paddle, my guide taking that opportunity for a cigarette)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrZoYayeXB-0iA4_aNTkgSPKBrUQsM6eoEH34ma4gaR8tAS4ryvpjWqVDIc3XgtCNKR52BoD3eotZ_vH4w6IyoWdNW-XZAjMkg1ITnbIY5iIdfezPZVFwIevS9ngf6lPh9Vcub9UWE1p1/s1600-h/DSC00788.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330326698217810" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrZoYayeXB-0iA4_aNTkgSPKBrUQsM6eoEH34ma4gaR8tAS4ryvpjWqVDIc3XgtCNKR52BoD3eotZ_vH4w6IyoWdNW-XZAjMkg1ITnbIY5iIdfezPZVFwIevS9ngf6lPh9Vcub9UWE1p1/s320/DSC00788.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yl6UoH1trOSiRgh6cMnErsAXtQF1jgF17dNuPuMVHriePLBjBqzpSi7qtNTThiq2BRbdJ0aLKVQlcVUED80VB-50AAgla0yUUVPyrfkIR6MYWyRAPYW5gyOJGzoK2f8WENCOFf6vAWJT/s1600-h/DSC00782.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330333250148498" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yl6UoH1trOSiRgh6cMnErsAXtQF1jgF17dNuPuMVHriePLBjBqzpSi7qtNTThiq2BRbdJ0aLKVQlcVUED80VB-50AAgla0yUUVPyrfkIR6MYWyRAPYW5gyOJGzoK2f8WENCOFf6vAWJT/s320/DSC00782.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj3bgcGbx3Uc0mHNTzCXroVyerdnRepLrOrJsHVOH4yRGpnpsNsRdP4lU3oAMDwYASi6Kz3mYP_4lPoEOZiFS2oTowwheak1Ouf-3kKRi5DotBxQGwrPoBbM5aNam18yO5WBFXsqgEEEx/s1600-h/DSC00808.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330008295438578" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj3bgcGbx3Uc0mHNTzCXroVyerdnRepLrOrJsHVOH4yRGpnpsNsRdP4lU3oAMDwYASi6Kz3mYP_4lPoEOZiFS2oTowwheak1Ouf-3kKRi5DotBxQGwrPoBbM5aNam18yO5WBFXsqgEEEx/s320/DSC00808.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzSD_1YboxH2JQSrG1-tZFLBGJpAgpv_hwV3mYOTpZ1yd5uT3y4oUEZ1P7KZ-INez3cXRec4fmyGg7ArEd3ZGA2YBZZt3ig387R51vgFtwKhyphenhyphenyrJlgxCff7U-Qnd6MQkivBybk3EfBVC2/s1600-h/DSC00801.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330317082915778" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzSD_1YboxH2JQSrG1-tZFLBGJpAgpv_hwV3mYOTpZ1yd5uT3y4oUEZ1P7KZ-INez3cXRec4fmyGg7ArEd3ZGA2YBZZt3ig387R51vgFtwKhyphenhyphenyrJlgxCff7U-Qnd6MQkivBybk3EfBVC2/s320/DSC00801.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbLrLBh8zIinO181tFaZ0FLeirK09yiZpyEZnBt7PqjlXTVqBqoM4HzCwX9Rk66a8R8mscZbsMqtn5AdsuyMqWD5ZFBbHprjFgMlBglROME4FnBnpbdprHvzPciwCDYzeqYV0pbNQ6jnV/s1600-h/DSC00799.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330317643986546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbLrLBh8zIinO181tFaZ0FLeirK09yiZpyEZnBt7PqjlXTVqBqoM4HzCwX9Rk66a8R8mscZbsMqtn5AdsuyMqWD5ZFBbHprjFgMlBglROME4FnBnpbdprHvzPciwCDYzeqYV0pbNQ6jnV/s320/DSC00799.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The James Bond island thing was neat too. Was the setting for James Bond: The Man With the Golden Gun. We stayed there for about 25 minutes and got to roam around.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXwD23o5CRqPVAJEfFrRVOlMnNWNPgv3OaiiHIm2I13jQK3MZff7VaD4wp_T3XBAUKvcjfDs44dp_-thheTSF9iwghyphenhyphenVbdtwhT9NHKShT1R9fbuTTiyRmZVG2le4JknO03JqHmLihZFt-/s1600-h/DSC00827.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329995506029218" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXwD23o5CRqPVAJEfFrRVOlMnNWNPgv3OaiiHIm2I13jQK3MZff7VaD4wp_T3XBAUKvcjfDs44dp_-thheTSF9iwghyphenhyphenVbdtwhT9NHKShT1R9fbuTTiyRmZVG2le4JknO03JqHmLihZFt-/s320/DSC00827.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: myself at James Bond Island)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The lunch at the village was delicious, but even cooler was the whole village was built on stilts over the water. (pic: Muslim sea village where we had lunch)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBPoDNrPA3Co0wRd0Jq6eGfuK53LUOokqxjGF_zzR_79KliLmUsOtzVcY5gk7kwT7QnQelMJvxFEzBB9ZbfTgbcfHL6yg6FdpDxb6UEGB2UOUUrUywoq2jLHKExzqunaSXWd9C9Hmr91U/s1600-h/DSC00854.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329993569299010" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBPoDNrPA3Co0wRd0Jq6eGfuK53LUOokqxjGF_zzR_79KliLmUsOtzVcY5gk7kwT7QnQelMJvxFEzBB9ZbfTgbcfHL6yg6FdpDxb6UEGB2UOUUrUywoq2jLHKExzqunaSXWd9C9Hmr91U/s320/DSC00854.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And the way we went about between these places was cool too. A longtail boat that powered over the flat waters of the bay. If I hadn’t been scammed, this would’ve been a fine tour. (pics: longtail boats parked at James Bond Island, the limestone formations on the sea)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQUHq09impP5gjgSxVncqMwHOPUlvbf8oxjWlhDXC0yoEvwJVaV4zU-U8nNOGf5QZ3ZFLf0PSTYOXg5mNemB6IxAsl-9L1duddi8COnV3i3-GpEyQ5AMHqH6-VbEmBkiBlfM9TFexYbVz/s1600-h/DSC00821.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330006183533362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQUHq09impP5gjgSxVncqMwHOPUlvbf8oxjWlhDXC0yoEvwJVaV4zU-U8nNOGf5QZ3ZFLf0PSTYOXg5mNemB6IxAsl-9L1duddi8COnV3i3-GpEyQ5AMHqH6-VbEmBkiBlfM9TFexYbVz/s320/DSC00821.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMCAh88lB8tNY39V3mguHv7LwYpbz4Hh-BICi6gbbwk9RPtNHl1kJsd1Nwq6cUctVtswJd8zq2AK5Yu25PJTXAAER8ds5QZYEPlFw-Whr8u8kLBEsHVHXHunsdq1ay7SRs3bs6_KahpRk/s1600-h/DSC00766.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284330337655596370" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMCAh88lB8tNY39V3mguHv7LwYpbz4Hh-BICi6gbbwk9RPtNHl1kJsd1Nwq6cUctVtswJd8zq2AK5Yu25PJTXAAER8ds5QZYEPlFw-Whr8u8kLBEsHVHXHunsdq1ay7SRs3bs6_KahpRk/s320/DSC00766.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Of course the elephant riding part was a lowpoint. (pic: everyone else having fun on their elephant rides)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQsJMwXLtF2UITXUGrnbxMERmJTey-MZYZnBByaOZMmhIPmljsotR7w_xyP-5KkTGgpPP9-OH7jq3sYsMuOlOavpJvHXZVzuCXbDj6kWerSm0F3FvR94ZyjD8aAkSfJBWDOiQhC3mXw9k/s1600-h/DSC00874.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329986542258050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQsJMwXLtF2UITXUGrnbxMERmJTey-MZYZnBByaOZMmhIPmljsotR7w_xyP-5KkTGgpPP9-OH7jq3sYsMuOlOavpJvHXZVzuCXbDj6kWerSm0F3FvR94ZyjD8aAkSfJBWDOiQhC3mXw9k/s320/DSC00874.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This was one of the worse days of my travels. I had never felt so cheated. The worst part is that I didn’t even really get to do what I wanted to do for very long. I wouldn’t have minded if I had overpaid for an all day trip, as opposed to overpaying for the wrong one.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-5th in Phuket 10/12</span><br /><br />Today was a lot better, a recovery after yesterday. Amy and I spent our entire day at Kata Beach, one of the most famous in Thailand. During the day it rained a bit, but still we stayed out there and played in the water.<br /><br />We took a songthaew from the town of Phuket 30 minutes to the western coast, the Andaman Sea. It started raining when we crossed the hills along the coast, but down below on the water’s edge it was still beautiful. Before we even touched the sand, we got breakfast.<br />On the beach we rented two beach chairs and an umbrella. The sun was out so I went down and played in the water. Water wasn’t choppy, and I went swimming down the beach. Amy took her chance after me. Soon the rain came in heavy, so we went back to the beachside shops and got lunch. (pics: looking south on Kata Beach, looking north on Kata Beach, our beach chairs and umbrella)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksY26kwLenGdozFPnLkKliSxgUFWJk_Rb3wym7RVJC-d9o24n2-iqm18s7oZWoCYa7HTEIqDOlDHRecHLhLvspzvvRtBWuBMWJPpa4EmzqW4wqwXVhEu3muNR2cYi2TTMsihQV0zxXGaq/s1600-h/DSC00888.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329778175833698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksY26kwLenGdozFPnLkKliSxgUFWJk_Rb3wym7RVJC-d9o24n2-iqm18s7oZWoCYa7HTEIqDOlDHRecHLhLvspzvvRtBWuBMWJPpa4EmzqW4wqwXVhEu3muNR2cYi2TTMsihQV0zxXGaq/s320/DSC00888.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbiiOhcfdUz7C_IlJfG8rSngzc8z3shDY6v-SSrYef4ANLGcjpsXuX4v1XDOBX4mRcXwKu7QTVn3dOPJ1EyftGYqGoWRq7EXQyw-u4kOg05Xqm5UUulr268bwjyDGYi-XzJv7RqgVGYD5H/s1600-h/DSC00889.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329772965964978" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbiiOhcfdUz7C_IlJfG8rSngzc8z3shDY6v-SSrYef4ANLGcjpsXuX4v1XDOBX4mRcXwKu7QTVn3dOPJ1EyftGYqGoWRq7EXQyw-u4kOg05Xqm5UUulr268bwjyDGYi-XzJv7RqgVGYD5H/s320/DSC00889.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSpKq6uHYlsGsvQATZThPj86BU5j9rHMpIbe6jNXvPUn429YSl8i8xgiJzRB597hY0IXAl0gmjHYdSpGx4duv1A-Vz-KtFez3YtLnUOkKXuPqbsDHSp7rhNAxn5ZoezatRYU5uYWM52zm/s1600-h/DSC00906.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329766574448050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSpKq6uHYlsGsvQATZThPj86BU5j9rHMpIbe6jNXvPUn429YSl8i8xgiJzRB597hY0IXAl0gmjHYdSpGx4duv1A-Vz-KtFez3YtLnUOkKXuPqbsDHSp7rhNAxn5ZoezatRYU5uYWM52zm/s320/DSC00906.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Back at the beach after the rain stopped I started playing in the sand. She came over and together we made a sand sculpture; it ended up being a gigantic face. The water was warm, and nice to play in. There were some beach hawkers who came by ever few minutes selling a wide variety of items, some even tempting. (pics: Amy and our sand creation next to her, the gigantic face sculpture we created)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrx62HKaVCtbG3iwwLLIPhIgXYbt3GYQbhJZo2yJu-kHR1Elzv3ReM4nbunixQmU5MoJwVTUtwSSFyGHSdBx3G2mSGeDrr1mOcqRgH4Kky3XpetVBoTwbaebFgA8r_BlqPIUjdJFZ1mg2/s1600-h/DSC00899.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329770576770162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrx62HKaVCtbG3iwwLLIPhIgXYbt3GYQbhJZo2yJu-kHR1Elzv3ReM4nbunixQmU5MoJwVTUtwSSFyGHSdBx3G2mSGeDrr1mOcqRgH4Kky3XpetVBoTwbaebFgA8r_BlqPIUjdJFZ1mg2/s320/DSC00899.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzM3Qd1MTszs6OrLKwN4bV_s5jmDoHjIrajiNkZAOBi3QhCnOVW7a3WhjRUm76EnNQLbNSxPx7hbwtgNBxPlnjSbjxWcpsDsfc0Vgv2-tptR1WBbKatJUGKODGD42l5wkko1cKdrCNs0KP/s1600-h/DSC00900.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329769320176898" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzM3Qd1MTszs6OrLKwN4bV_s5jmDoHjIrajiNkZAOBi3QhCnOVW7a3WhjRUm76EnNQLbNSxPx7hbwtgNBxPlnjSbjxWcpsDsfc0Vgv2-tptR1WBbKatJUGKODGD42l5wkko1cKdrCNs0KP/s320/DSC00900.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We tried to catch the last songthaew for the day back to the town. Seemed liked they ended earlier than what the guide book said. We walked down the main road looking for one, and watching if it passed. At one point, we stopped and asked a tuk-tuk stand how much it’d be back to town. It was much more expensive, but while we were asking, a songthaew passed by. Such irony. It ended up being the last of the day. We waited and hoped for 40 minutes for another, but we were out of luck.<br />We finally decided that we would just take out some money for a tuk-tuk, and just eat dinner here at the beach. Might as well since we were stuck. We went and watched the sunset on the water, and then went back to the strip of stores. Despite there being a cool dinosaur themed restaurant, we chose a place that delicious yet a lot cheaper. They also gave us a free appetizer, and a discounted dessert. They had a complimentary pool to swim in too, that was attached to a hotel. We stuck our feet in, but didn’t want to be wet for the half hour ride back. (pics: sunset over the Andaman Sea from Kata Beach, Amy at sunset at Kata Beach)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEer05VnjHqaUn_8sMDEEvcPw_I2tRsQaS9L-Q0Pt87WDBdmww6QeAGET6Ie1EymAnbDh8hct6Wtwr005VKtlYcKwlD1OrWzKr1lU5d9SIEJmISmr4qQqhGUUJpnlhsFbaeTIUIyDb4JO/s1600-h/DSC00912.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329549699937186" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEer05VnjHqaUn_8sMDEEvcPw_I2tRsQaS9L-Q0Pt87WDBdmww6QeAGET6Ie1EymAnbDh8hct6Wtwr005VKtlYcKwlD1OrWzKr1lU5d9SIEJmISmr4qQqhGUUJpnlhsFbaeTIUIyDb4JO/s320/DSC00912.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tqx5OsL-FTXoaCQJ2j6dIJHVXimxUhqOb5xDbFu7tKuBIVF-NbRy0gBLucxCkemOWaGeq1eRvmSu3yYNo5hyphenhyphen0J8KYMxACWre0suQmTGVMIDhG1tKB5Fx3-eqLyXZ6j53wYuzxRbp_3oX/s1600-h/DSC00918.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329545791329714" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tqx5OsL-FTXoaCQJ2j6dIJHVXimxUhqOb5xDbFu7tKuBIVF-NbRy0gBLucxCkemOWaGeq1eRvmSu3yYNo5hyphenhyphen0J8KYMxACWre0suQmTGVMIDhG1tKB5Fx3-eqLyXZ6j53wYuzxRbp_3oX/s320/DSC00918.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />For that we got a tuk-tuk and headed home. When we got back we checked email one last time. She printed our plane tickets for tomorrow. We went to bed.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-6th in Kuala Lumpur 10/13</span><br /><br />We walked to the bus stand in the morning, and caught the shuttle bus to the Phuket airport, a one hour ride from the town. The airport is one the coastline, so when you taxi to the runway, you are along the sea. (pic: able to see the sea from the taxiway)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZem_ibso3EX53fbJ5sB6WKGJ0cu7Z5GtVKMZaduSX2NuCBaTy2Sb-ZOHesQwkHimaYFox77VlLXHTpH7lUPhD3ZMm2FyGIAqkaTg1Gm0wKaO6UPzwt0o7dEBwIR6ptKrjzzR-So4VWHf/s1600-h/DSC00934.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329536393051730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZem_ibso3EX53fbJ5sB6WKGJ0cu7Z5GtVKMZaduSX2NuCBaTy2Sb-ZOHesQwkHimaYFox77VlLXHTpH7lUPhD3ZMm2FyGIAqkaTg1Gm0wKaO6UPzwt0o7dEBwIR6ptKrjzzR-So4VWHf/s320/DSC00934.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We were flying AirAsia to Kuala Lumpur. First time for both of us, and definitely won’t be our last; it was exceptionally nice. The plane ride was a lot shorter than both of us thought it would be. Neither of us had realized we crossed time zones! (pics: AirAsia plane parked at Kuala Lumpur's budget terminal)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkCdYUUEXlyVPl1zyUh35-ZfLUrOMD4DOg41XYqIM3kJxkASVnwfxOP7F6lAXCvaZPGQ6RJUj3x6iHMWYM9vicTMsCkWSwivkFkdHvs0YDjl94iAgDWitQ6Jvegczg_k1kUEREKgnp6NT/s1600-h/DSC00938.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329531855261618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkCdYUUEXlyVPl1zyUh35-ZfLUrOMD4DOg41XYqIM3kJxkASVnwfxOP7F6lAXCvaZPGQ6RJUj3x6iHMWYM9vicTMsCkWSwivkFkdHvs0YDjl94iAgDWitQ6Jvegczg_k1kUEREKgnp6NT/s320/DSC00938.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We landed at Kuala Lumpur’s airport at the budget terminal. It was my first time in one, and it was cool how well they’d minimalized to keep prices low.<br />We took a bus into the city. Before getting on, I grabbed lunch for us at McDonalds. First time having that in a long while. On the drive we could see the sprawl of Kuala Lumpur. We entered the city emerging from rolling hills. When I first saw the Petronas Towers I became very excited. They were incredible, towering over the whole city. Couldn’t wait to see them up close. (pics: myself with my first McDonald's since I ate it in Delhi in July, suburban sprawl on Kuala Lumpur's exurb fringe, my first view of the Petronas Towers)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoa1wkUFaxplEmngZkBM24pXOPWGm2P3ccuvFVs0IbTkn10ltVMja_prGtDRbaJhf-5h4Bl9iCh1wQCXzgFT80faLboz4D5WIkrSc0Ws2IveV5WU9xrI5Du2BvTmguj3FpmL1tLJpLuXn/s1600-h/DSC00940.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284329530070864418" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoa1wkUFaxplEmngZkBM24pXOPWGm2P3ccuvFVs0IbTkn10ltVMja_prGtDRbaJhf-5h4Bl9iCh1wQCXzgFT80faLboz4D5WIkrSc0Ws2IveV5WU9xrI5Du2BvTmguj3FpmL1tLJpLuXn/s320/DSC00940.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyWJlWBYIr48yDHHTj-sQIU5d-tCSJ1UmC1PbvepZHio6jLZ9YenDOzYeRosZOswaSuNVP41eg1wCPl3hBXHdFrGOxLkxJ1RNBTUnHxBCEWxYOHNryQTsJojin6G3VEZJBE81ddF_7_IU3/s1600-h/DSC00949.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326945766147314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyWJlWBYIr48yDHHTj-sQIU5d-tCSJ1UmC1PbvepZHio6jLZ9YenDOzYeRosZOswaSuNVP41eg1wCPl3hBXHdFrGOxLkxJ1RNBTUnHxBCEWxYOHNryQTsJojin6G3VEZJBE81ddF_7_IU3/s320/DSC00949.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctQEBD0us9OIjgo0JFj7YWA9ausYKlxM3uzkx43cAAcOf4PGLwK7ZeyY-Re0volwJsYstbyY1dD-z7mFu1AluijLvg5eAJ0zUfYoViTvJHKKic9Yom19ZDW0ljWIsWIEW3qUmhgTSsNiJ/s1600-h/DSC00952.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326943231389778" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctQEBD0us9OIjgo0JFj7YWA9ausYKlxM3uzkx43cAAcOf4PGLwK7ZeyY-Re0volwJsYstbyY1dD-z7mFu1AluijLvg5eAJ0zUfYoViTvJHKKic9Yom19ZDW0ljWIsWIEW3qUmhgTSsNiJ/s320/DSC00952.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We arrived in the city and immediately after getting off a bus a hotel tout found us. But he seemed very credible and was offering great deals at places. We went with him and really liked the second hotel he showed us and we decided to stay there.<br /><br />We had lunch at a Chinatown restaurant and then set off to walk around the city. roaming here and there. We made our way to the Times Square Mall. We had been told that there was a roller coaster inside. The mall was huge, and incredibly decorated. We couldn’t find the roller coaster immediately, but after checking a map, we saw it was on the 6th floor. Took an elevator up and we finally got to see it. It stretched from floors 4 to 10, and even had loops. We really wanted to ride, but the park admission was for entry, not per ride, and was much too high to warrant the only ride we wanted to go on. (pics: Times Square Mall and their display for Eid-ul-Fitr, myself inside the Times Square Mall and the giant rollercoaster inside)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvri5jcFoQLCaQz2V3wdzYShi4daNyGBKHMmvBjcW3zAsOuk0Wt5cjbuxPhmIaz_4Mlxx-8a1VU_XYiDziTpMB1pe2c-f3u8ER-O5nwfni6Q_01KA4KW7BeTPCOC1MNUxAWoJSVCQ4WBt/s1600-h/DSC00980.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326920738868802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvri5jcFoQLCaQz2V3wdzYShi4daNyGBKHMmvBjcW3zAsOuk0Wt5cjbuxPhmIaz_4Mlxx-8a1VU_XYiDziTpMB1pe2c-f3u8ER-O5nwfni6Q_01KA4KW7BeTPCOC1MNUxAWoJSVCQ4WBt/s320/DSC00980.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KdePuDr-1PgJKaR_3o1VHNsWdz2bc8Q-ojCP6slaS9gH3s-Qb59OdiFvIoszT9jdiv6obbrAdR-cK7C1yfAi0hBNJabBuUtOAzkY3hBcb2VE-O4qSaPHadGfhqqV0ORPjUG4q_SMc9oc/s1600-h/DSC00991.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326661473920690" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KdePuDr-1PgJKaR_3o1VHNsWdz2bc8Q-ojCP6slaS9gH3s-Qb59OdiFvIoszT9jdiv6obbrAdR-cK7C1yfAi0hBNJabBuUtOAzkY3hBcb2VE-O4qSaPHadGfhqqV0ORPjUG4q_SMc9oc/s320/DSC00991.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What was most excellent was that this place had an IMAX, and they were showing “Dark Knight”. I had wanted to see this in Bangkok on our one day there, because Naira had told me it was playing and it was supposed to be incredible on IMAX. That had gotten my hopes up, but it wasn’t in theaters anymore in Bangkok. But in Kuala Lumpur it was still out. Noon tomorrow. We decided we’d come back for it.<br />We meandered to another mall. We were currently in the Golden Triangle of Kuala Lumpur. which is super nice with lots of shopping. This mall was all electronics. But we sat downstairs, and I got a muffin and she got a cinnamon bun. We then walked some more in the shopping area and went in another mall. We shopped around a book store and then wound our ways through the floors of stores; this place was very much like Bashundara City in Dhaka. (pic: an entire mall Kuala Lumpur dedicated to electronics)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7criug3eMVu7ef8gg45evhH61_SmgjHZ35RCBBlOfYdn6-J94mniaH_y8vqU7hILUFOJXCI9BwlUZ7obVCvhgU8nvQy0Z_bau2YvH3s1tWIVhhUDlQEzJerWLvPe6b7BbtbDm49T-rdGT/s1600-h/DSC00998.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326651587991170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7criug3eMVu7ef8gg45evhH61_SmgjHZ35RCBBlOfYdn6-J94mniaH_y8vqU7hILUFOJXCI9BwlUZ7obVCvhgU8nvQy0Z_bau2YvH3s1tWIVhhUDlQEzJerWLvPe6b7BbtbDm49T-rdGT/s320/DSC00998.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It was nice to be able to be amongst these luxuries, and it was exactly what we had come to Kuala Lumpur for. I know Malaysia has more to offer, but Kuala Lumpur was our prime destination with our time limits, and we soaked up what we could. It felt magical being in Kuala Lumpur, like we’d entered the future. It was the exact feeling we’d hoped for. (pic: myself with the KL tower in the background, Kuala Lumpur's monorail sweeps past the Times Square Mall)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyh8KilaUSjaexuYInEaId7KT7uEIQfXqoq2HI_0CQZpPbNAcDM03dAYYGZil11Ts1A9E9PjiCkR3jSe9tG1FgqU_7Y3e9zb0l7ndo7jeqkl2iBHtxWaqCy2Q3XPtTqfPe4Iwu1D4j5H/s1600-h/DSC00977.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326934934398322" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyh8KilaUSjaexuYInEaId7KT7uEIQfXqoq2HI_0CQZpPbNAcDM03dAYYGZil11Ts1A9E9PjiCkR3jSe9tG1FgqU_7Y3e9zb0l7ndo7jeqkl2iBHtxWaqCy2Q3XPtTqfPe4Iwu1D4j5H/s320/DSC00977.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPrqfgSvDBea00fac82tkoiB3EEnTv1fBIFOZGlsbEWmC6ENgyNYiE1Ent9IAcYwR_KkVMcsvHb4asn8yHrBvBl4DonECSiq6I8XO65T9AaKd_NaMP0xVhNWtXRGzbTXq1YI5HztEXt_q/s1600-h/DSC00973.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326935493110594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPrqfgSvDBea00fac82tkoiB3EEnTv1fBIFOZGlsbEWmC6ENgyNYiE1Ent9IAcYwR_KkVMcsvHb4asn8yHrBvBl4DonECSiq6I8XO65T9AaKd_NaMP0xVhNWtXRGzbTXq1YI5HztEXt_q/s320/DSC00973.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We got Subway for another lunch; we just kept eating. It had started to rain for a bit too, so we stayed inside and talked.<br />We decided to go to the Petronas Towers in the evening, to see them all lit up. We finally had our chance to ride on the mass transit system. Kuala Lumpur’s subways, monorail, and commuter rail system was pretty seamless. It connected everything very well and was accessible. Sometimes it was a bit confusing on how to find a particular station, but that was our only frustration.<br /><br />We arrived at the Petronas Towers, and it was still drizzling a bit. But they looked gorgeous lit up. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I had not been in awe like this my whole trip. Around their midsection some clouds were passing through, and this heightened the sensation of how tall they were. We took tons of photos and tried to see the buildings from a variety of angles. We were there about a half hour, and then took the subway back to our hotel area. (pics: Petronas Towers with fog sweeping in, myself in front of the Petronas Towers, tree branches and the Petronas Towers, Amy/myself at the base of the towers, the Malaysian flag hung vertically on the Petronas Towers, front shot of the Petronas Towers)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGwF8DMSf_A84b_u2BoEK6BZBkZ9p_z3oyl3ru3cniJnHd2PNNsWV1bV-_7Ifi5OieUiGxzUyx6uPmpOHU5h-87wQtPR7l5uI9LYSkFvq6lUcz9kt4xdfSBP-U5jT4d8d3-i9bTkDMKk5/s1600-h/DSC01032.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326650309651874" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGwF8DMSf_A84b_u2BoEK6BZBkZ9p_z3oyl3ru3cniJnHd2PNNsWV1bV-_7Ifi5OieUiGxzUyx6uPmpOHU5h-87wQtPR7l5uI9LYSkFvq6lUcz9kt4xdfSBP-U5jT4d8d3-i9bTkDMKk5/s320/DSC01032.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2ditnZL2Mzxtn5VeDKfrUfC7Ydmd0OAIKjUwVXFJvS4dzH6qj8nvDY-CRtalFIC_yb7_G2XWFzc6XtWuFiDs2U6WPffA2c80vhUxF_j7_Z5djvh-uqHWfhG6pgHal6KRcmSnATdsx_f2/s1600-h/DSC01043.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326647281922466" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2ditnZL2Mzxtn5VeDKfrUfC7Ydmd0OAIKjUwVXFJvS4dzH6qj8nvDY-CRtalFIC_yb7_G2XWFzc6XtWuFiDs2U6WPffA2c80vhUxF_j7_Z5djvh-uqHWfhG6pgHal6KRcmSnATdsx_f2/s320/DSC01043.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQQjmMF21tjbGMmPcwwsZ-CSOeonFEXUDo7zTx1Hm6ZyOCbaaW6UWzGWmlmNrQ1dUmPPj6N4WF6zJjvX97QJmLkhFoUjbVrPr5HH9NHO-k_SOPqNCEbx7wpzx0uPZx1kS44nzr3IyB7PA/s1600-h/DSC01057.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326281733172386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQQjmMF21tjbGMmPcwwsZ-CSOeonFEXUDo7zTx1Hm6ZyOCbaaW6UWzGWmlmNrQ1dUmPPj6N4WF6zJjvX97QJmLkhFoUjbVrPr5HH9NHO-k_SOPqNCEbx7wpzx0uPZx1kS44nzr3IyB7PA/s320/DSC01057.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRNzTEJ3ueD2TtZ08zpvVH24O4-74FIt9vvqd784KUNXzWI6ZP-o1Fj7-7B4FgPRs-3990VK7lfj94QDcx1qs_Z-JQEpaZNmrB_gj7Gkpk5Hh0-lGrSzhLLwd2JJpqHLQGPXjhZLnXi3w/s1600-h/DSC01065.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326279159187362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRNzTEJ3ueD2TtZ08zpvVH24O4-74FIt9vvqd784KUNXzWI6ZP-o1Fj7-7B4FgPRs-3990VK7lfj94QDcx1qs_Z-JQEpaZNmrB_gj7Gkpk5Hh0-lGrSzhLLwd2JJpqHLQGPXjhZLnXi3w/s320/DSC01065.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBt6fZapFYp5eDtftBkcJRBnAUiVwEZrJOHjJNPast0blJJuIhf7yQ8do789DIMtu3raNSHQOq5rPJmWUCyj1FVS-ea8hxlPhDicHCtQ2H_nmmf6JxCYshvLZFxWT80LiEHkqAf0Xu8_2/s1600-h/DSC01067.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326271253372866" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBt6fZapFYp5eDtftBkcJRBnAUiVwEZrJOHjJNPast0blJJuIhf7yQ8do789DIMtu3raNSHQOq5rPJmWUCyj1FVS-ea8hxlPhDicHCtQ2H_nmmf6JxCYshvLZFxWT80LiEHkqAf0Xu8_2/s320/DSC01067.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFFxGuRCcric3uChS3hepKZZwLE_0Bm39WULs5APx3ucyniiBOWruZrJbePRhoDZ-Jj9KU43aG0Mmqs5cfRf1KhjnWvYt7020q19yu9ge1sUIt9W6vrH_2xL4WQ9SoUwkM8Aha8YjKA5Q/s1600-h/DSC01052.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326637355797682" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFFxGuRCcric3uChS3hepKZZwLE_0Bm39WULs5APx3ucyniiBOWruZrJbePRhoDZ-Jj9KU43aG0Mmqs5cfRf1KhjnWvYt7020q19yu9ge1sUIt9W6vrH_2xL4WQ9SoUwkM8Aha8YjKA5Q/s320/DSC01052.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">58th-7th in Kuala Lumpur 10/14</span><br /><br />Cannot believe I’m leaving Asia in a few days.<br /><br />We got up early to see the Petronas Towers again, this time to actually go up inside. We were advised to arrive early to wait in line, as it gets long quickly. We took the subway over, and when we got there, the line already had about 40 people in it. We took our place. We took turns holding it while the other went and found and ate a breakfast. The mall below the Petronas Towers is immense, and although not the biggest, had the nicest array of stores; an interna Rodeo Drive.<br /><br />We got the first batch of tickets to go up to the tower’s famous skybridge. What’s really cool is that going up is totally free.<br />From the skybridge, 40 something stories up, the view was good, although not spectacular. Because of the placement of the buildings, from the skybridge you cannot see the main parts of the city. For us it was neat to just be inside these iconic towers. After you come back down, there was a neat science museum about the towers. I read everything and tried all the exhibits. Amy got through a lot faster than I did. (pics: myself on the Petronas Towers' skybridge, the support poles for the skybridge braced on the tower itself, Amy and looking down the length of the skybridge, Amy/myself on the skybridge with Kuala Lumpur in the background)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-piRHMxjZxKPueXD-ZGJrY2N6aSHFu4NQUxhlfvxnCVUR9UPsObwAxmkQH-eJRMisalI3KU-jIAC622PAV_2ys5i79N9ICraX9wFNSlDIzENqrQMDBrKRIU-uXxWFhT4smsB2VSBvBp5/s1600-h/DSC01087.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326268953273634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-piRHMxjZxKPueXD-ZGJrY2N6aSHFu4NQUxhlfvxnCVUR9UPsObwAxmkQH-eJRMisalI3KU-jIAC622PAV_2ys5i79N9ICraX9wFNSlDIzENqrQMDBrKRIU-uXxWFhT4smsB2VSBvBp5/s320/DSC01087.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitnCtE3z3l5GdztcyBvZDjeuQ6x1tFBlXNcS3VTipkBKIAS0ed4yIoP2Q3CywsA3SFEm8ZjOmmPTd2AnJ7v9NxLcEoaQuByi6UgF6i7ew7grv8GaPJn3-3ygtHBzjjcAwioXGBaQImEps/s1600-h/DSC01100.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325733726362210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitnCtE3z3l5GdztcyBvZDjeuQ6x1tFBlXNcS3VTipkBKIAS0ed4yIoP2Q3CywsA3SFEm8ZjOmmPTd2AnJ7v9NxLcEoaQuByi6UgF6i7ew7grv8GaPJn3-3ygtHBzjjcAwioXGBaQImEps/s320/DSC01100.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9-H8vAj7uPK1j8e_Wflvnp723d40xcrvOsVCXJ_x9SZlVkwqDzgiHkNWuGBzE1OvuhXEVnOnEpzimefa3IbYbN2wpu0rLOs8-OZ6YMsJSl5VZGeq8YEvsslUaFkLu8FY3pZOb0w4yy8K/s1600-h/DSC01092.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284326265439835650" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9-H8vAj7uPK1j8e_Wflvnp723d40xcrvOsVCXJ_x9SZlVkwqDzgiHkNWuGBzE1OvuhXEVnOnEpzimefa3IbYbN2wpu0rLOs8-OZ6YMsJSl5VZGeq8YEvsslUaFkLu8FY3pZOb0w4yy8K/s320/DSC01092.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-U7IUAdEJw8cDT0wK9fc8MJK9xmybSedAw8QeUQ9FbeaSQklMltKpwOcGBPtCdO_TljW7lPEntZHmGVzLh7teMRGsSi86Qf-WHILQ9R_8j1pBoDjjV1IIJgG3I8T6c3WfMUenXDkimGjs/s1600-h/DSC01106.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325727202711442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-U7IUAdEJw8cDT0wK9fc8MJK9xmybSedAw8QeUQ9FbeaSQklMltKpwOcGBPtCdO_TljW7lPEntZHmGVzLh7teMRGsSi86Qf-WHILQ9R_8j1pBoDjjV1IIJgG3I8T6c3WfMUenXDkimGjs/s320/DSC01106.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We headed to the back of the towers into the KLCC gardens. From there we took the photos she was trying to take for her dad, a civil engineer. She had made a sign that said “HI DAD” and posed with it in front of the buildings, a favorite of civil engineers worldwide. (pics: myself in the backside of the towers in the KLCC gardens, kids and couples dating by the wading pool in the KLCC gardens)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkrEQYCOPKgETQWV6-7D9YsD3fP5U_HZX5tV7e9dAfRWTXkb2ocerwt4EEr0gNey__m2IyOvKwBdG1Zv8IKF6RnJ5clyAAOnChlteRoTYwGFxaYrbVTiA1s0SjoYVEgK2xJkMenZ2HyJB/s1600-h/DSC01123.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325722168127186" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkrEQYCOPKgETQWV6-7D9YsD3fP5U_HZX5tV7e9dAfRWTXkb2ocerwt4EEr0gNey__m2IyOvKwBdG1Zv8IKF6RnJ5clyAAOnChlteRoTYwGFxaYrbVTiA1s0SjoYVEgK2xJkMenZ2HyJB/s320/DSC01123.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowP2dfvorgWlFKsnwHOudaezeOQCFReVsKklfVrIxkc9ERn1G6LpHcNkOYlMTM13mOvko54siAxVQ6cMJvBYUR8nz9X1f-fZU350BbWl1-wjG1Q-SPwG7RIF1ZGl0E6u2gqfNGx3256MW/s1600-h/DSC01134.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325720657789410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowP2dfvorgWlFKsnwHOudaezeOQCFReVsKklfVrIxkc9ERn1G6LpHcNkOYlMTM13mOvko54siAxVQ6cMJvBYUR8nz9X1f-fZU350BbWl1-wjG1Q-SPwG7RIF1ZGl0E6u2gqfNGx3256MW/s320/DSC01134.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then walked back to the Times Square Mall. It really didn’t take that long to walk across basically 2/3 of the city. The city isn’t as big as I thought it’d be from looking at the map. We passed through parts of the Golden Triangle again, and I liked seeing how the monorail swept through this fancy part of the city.<br /><br />We arrived at the mall for the movie. We were early so we killed some time in Border’s. When it was time, we bought movie snacks. They only had caramel popcorn, no regular popcorn. I’d never seen that before, and I don't believe caramel popcorn can replace movie popcorn.<br />The movie was incredible, and I was blown away by the IMAX. It met all my expectations. When we initially walked in we were the only ones inside. By the time it “filled up” there were about 15 people there. Assigned seating. (pics: myself in front of the Dark Knight signs and you can see the joy in my eyes, caramel popcorn BLEH for a movie, Amy in our assigned seats in the empty IMAX theater)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4w5k7RLW8YSu33WHkRjdAvR9ViXFsIDlwPeavq0SA4ZadkoW-Y4HiVYIa8q965okRBSi_KWshlEVl9YlR-jYYD1VB5nNtk463N9uC4KSz6UPHhx4vGPjVi1yxwOrUcdMhLGAnqVUlgf0D/s1600-h/DSC01146.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325715224620882" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4w5k7RLW8YSu33WHkRjdAvR9ViXFsIDlwPeavq0SA4ZadkoW-Y4HiVYIa8q965okRBSi_KWshlEVl9YlR-jYYD1VB5nNtk463N9uC4KSz6UPHhx4vGPjVi1yxwOrUcdMhLGAnqVUlgf0D/s320/DSC01146.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jHyyjeS_J9HYQSVkiBWOFLt2AgT_Jm4szj7BKsWYytwvfATrU7bEEKuTjJ6LFOix_-m-PQfZ3i9hSlswgIuyjWUAEur_Cnou3x44W5t6WyseXo4bhAxCESdcRuOCRvrn0qAD6tUefVAr/s1600-h/DSC01147.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325509027598434" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jHyyjeS_J9HYQSVkiBWOFLt2AgT_Jm4szj7BKsWYytwvfATrU7bEEKuTjJ6LFOix_-m-PQfZ3i9hSlswgIuyjWUAEur_Cnou3x44W5t6WyseXo4bhAxCESdcRuOCRvrn0qAD6tUefVAr/s320/DSC01147.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoiQsAeQZfO0H9SfAbISm_o812y8AkS7O3JChIyYfpog24mCNiAR4Xnkn3OcV9ixKtDJb5xyLsNJgGXOhqBy5s-gnrRTZzjnenxblM2GKyPfcMyzdzyDzU_Tk_8RwrkwEmkf7br2YwvAG/s1600-h/DSC01150.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325510807610050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoiQsAeQZfO0H9SfAbISm_o812y8AkS7O3JChIyYfpog24mCNiAR4Xnkn3OcV9ixKtDJb5xyLsNJgGXOhqBy5s-gnrRTZzjnenxblM2GKyPfcMyzdzyDzU_Tk_8RwrkwEmkf7br2YwvAG/s320/DSC01150.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After the movie we had lunch in the food court. It had all varieties of Malaysian, Thai, Indian, and Chinese food, with one western and Italian store. I got some seafood noodles, I’m soaking up every chance I have to eat the cuisine. It was a bit fancy food court, but still cheap, and reminded me of the setup I saw in the Bangkok bus terminal.<br /><br />We took the monorail back to our hotel’s part of the city and walked to the National Mosque. It was prayer time when we arrived, so non-Muslim tourists were not allowed inside. Either way, neither of us was dressed appropriately, so we sat out front for a bit and rested and took pictures. (pics: inside Kuala Lumpur's monorail, Malaysia's national mosque, myself sitting in the front of the national mosque)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOzW6ynuBJbKKXbDp0SZML7YVlAHXNslCqm2gUSopIiYYen7uvzLEkI8lOKGTXgZB0OCmt_lcHsrh2ugkcxJLOpd2vt3Rc30yDwPoN-1gzV7UbZ65l2EZjvq5kjqyvB-QjIjEVRX1GxlQ/s1600-h/DSC01155.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325503743369602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOzW6ynuBJbKKXbDp0SZML7YVlAHXNslCqm2gUSopIiYYen7uvzLEkI8lOKGTXgZB0OCmt_lcHsrh2ugkcxJLOpd2vt3Rc30yDwPoN-1gzV7UbZ65l2EZjvq5kjqyvB-QjIjEVRX1GxlQ/s320/DSC01155.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoXaskXX9FRWKTeVVUfB1Fqu_aSRwhNmwH45HGdXi8v7FOvPEAQCoxMmxEyHxgxTxSDe93ckrFD0HtPREkH39L1tcWgP5VJvGEW-6OqE1Y0yT3k32dtJqqufMZPzC6hmVlYxBYncP2Oaa/s1600-h/DSC01157.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325499009364930" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoXaskXX9FRWKTeVVUfB1Fqu_aSRwhNmwH45HGdXi8v7FOvPEAQCoxMmxEyHxgxTxSDe93ckrFD0HtPREkH39L1tcWgP5VJvGEW-6OqE1Y0yT3k32dtJqqufMZPzC6hmVlYxBYncP2Oaa/s320/DSC01157.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikw2KCED1-a5izqrutA8iicVIs-tkzWipSBcVHqgEClFn6xlh3rXKdvGXlML7DR2lb95uDPmzpp0wSIX3qbrxrFWj9OL9qOxwN4R31Bfcq7N6HsMPysZUsykA8Ud10WVdSM5Euvs2j_nKN/s1600-h/DSC01161.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325491661043058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikw2KCED1-a5izqrutA8iicVIs-tkzWipSBcVHqgEClFn6xlh3rXKdvGXlML7DR2lb95uDPmzpp0wSIX3qbrxrFWj9OL9qOxwN4R31Bfcq7N6HsMPysZUsykA8Ud10WVdSM5Euvs2j_nKN/s320/DSC01161.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had wanted to check out the Islamic art museum, and since we were nearby, we checked to see if it was open. It was, for 50 minutes more. Amy had no desire to pay to see it for such a short time, but I was real excited to check it out. She said she didn’t mind waiting in the courtyard to journal and read.<br />I rushed through as many exhibits as I could trying to read as much as possible. My focus was on the section about Islamic architecture which had models of the world’s most popular mosques. They were very well done. I took photos of all of them. Another neat thing was a live map of the world’s prayer times. It was cool to see how “lines” of prayer times crossed the earth. The rest of the museum was great too, with artifacts of Arabic texts and Islamic crafts. Could’ve stayed longer to read but didn’t have time. (pics: model of mosques in the Islamic Art musuem (this one of longtime favorite mosques the Masjed-e-Emam in Iran), lines depicting prayer times cross the globe, display on the different scripts of Arabic, Amy kindly patiently waiting for me in the courtyard of the museum)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMT5wJRrM8I9l6RSgSd4_dxshDLQo4BIhU3oEgd3fajyKsJLW0u_UtQb46Jc3DfckOjf35dG9ihW-K0RLngFvwglnY3Y0UzVm-_QxHGCFC_2N8uxDM9j8VkVHtIEK1vV4iCoXQCBGBHBm/s1600-h/DSC01190.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325111586930418" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMT5wJRrM8I9l6RSgSd4_dxshDLQo4BIhU3oEgd3fajyKsJLW0u_UtQb46Jc3DfckOjf35dG9ihW-K0RLngFvwglnY3Y0UzVm-_QxHGCFC_2N8uxDM9j8VkVHtIEK1vV4iCoXQCBGBHBm/s320/DSC01190.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJR81dY9vUFZKrLrza82PSvStaY8akv8hFupdZ3Yy_v1xaEPdqdwSjrGwvvMeuCdg01-nqJ9e6GrsUxH_oWFZmXwlbLrcHUdsOP_TCPwC9ixNTDqEc8-q-0xCB580c8RfGG6GLF6l-J3rV/s1600-h/DSC01192.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325107879227410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJR81dY9vUFZKrLrza82PSvStaY8akv8hFupdZ3Yy_v1xaEPdqdwSjrGwvvMeuCdg01-nqJ9e6GrsUxH_oWFZmXwlbLrcHUdsOP_TCPwC9ixNTDqEc8-q-0xCB580c8RfGG6GLF6l-J3rV/s320/DSC01192.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvnvEpRXK2OGwwKF87kFKGcXy0Dn89FJhD30phJIzrDO7BVH3NThM4ktkMkR5EvVKuqWzAkn1sNlKrq-_xak1V2Q2DjQHspQ0CYKLx9L2cKV0Uj_WlwYn0fRdoZyLRIEPh7o6km-hqpZg/s1600-h/DSC01194.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325109151308722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvnvEpRXK2OGwwKF87kFKGcXy0Dn89FJhD30phJIzrDO7BVH3NThM4ktkMkR5EvVKuqWzAkn1sNlKrq-_xak1V2Q2DjQHspQ0CYKLx9L2cKV0Uj_WlwYn0fRdoZyLRIEPh7o6km-hqpZg/s320/DSC01194.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4S6qyvIYXyijpyBi2a4XaG4Fohehm3nXdPExSkPBBlUpARrrdLWfsSwrfe7lIuVtB8fl3gz5LyUsYWza-gv_Mvhc7ErjwueTsK3ipf4xmrM4Vzm4j13cAVMeJGnTHxJkYOsHM7ApzhBX/s1600-h/DSC01200.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325100597755538" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4S6qyvIYXyijpyBi2a4XaG4Fohehm3nXdPExSkPBBlUpARrrdLWfsSwrfe7lIuVtB8fl3gz5LyUsYWza-gv_Mvhc7ErjwueTsK3ipf4xmrM4Vzm4j13cAVMeJGnTHxJkYOsHM7ApzhBX/s320/DSC01200.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After heading back in the rain, some dinner, and checking our email, we headed for the city’s main train station. We sat and waited, I finished the book The Void. I had picked up a new book at the Malaysian hostel, in exchange for A Brief History of Time, entitled was A Good Man in Africa. Wasn’t sure if it’d be good or not, but it was the only English book on the shelf, all the rest were German.<br /><br />The train was a little late, but nothing bad. Inside it was super nice, and our beds were great. Little curtains to close us off from the train car. Was excited to be on my way to Singapore. Train wasn’t full, but it was still a good thing we had booked our train tickets online when we were in Vietnam. (pic: Amy in her bed pod on the train to Singapore)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtEk3WG5erZHtI5Rl3TjnSKLSN8pePLfj7DpK-0ZXM6hppIK8qX7Ym2Sos_H8zctp5FHn_djSwpag8HciqsYnr51EeZhp0l8TnNe9wJIZVdSJVhGZhC5veL_HjsIsWHkwX1pPuvbxH3Yo/s1600-h/DSC01204.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284325103738527106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtEk3WG5erZHtI5Rl3TjnSKLSN8pePLfj7DpK-0ZXM6hppIK8qX7Ym2Sos_H8zctp5FHn_djSwpag8HciqsYnr51EeZhp0l8TnNe9wJIZVdSJVhGZhC5veL_HjsIsWHkwX1pPuvbxH3Yo/s320/DSC01204.JPG" border="0" /></a><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-76424155631207143292008-12-20T21:26:00.029+06:002008-12-25T09:43:41.787+06:00Week 57: "Vietnam! Vietnam!" and the Plain of Jars (or "Don't worry the driver is drinking milk.")<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-1st in Phonosavan</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> 10/1</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />The bus did not take 10 hours. Or even the 12 hours that one guide book said. It took 16, meaning even without the breakdown last night we would’ve only made it there in 14. It was much longer than we ever thought. The bus stopped several times to let people out to urinate. The first of the morning was in the middle of the mountains. Really, the most beautiful pee stops ever. (pics: first stop in the mountains in the morning to pee, third stop out of the mountains in a rolling plain)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmj98SqHJbHYpCp7uvvqRgCu-Leez0spK1bne0PiHH7mpStod8EWTLsfIz0cp19NxgQ9WqaqaoJWh54G9yP15uKviBmUXQpwryTW3tHOb0a9oDOgC6k_WVfHHVlk0b7ZtUvkBbB_WpDHZ/s1600-h/DSC00124.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283538515369268402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmj98SqHJbHYpCp7uvvqRgCu-Leez0spK1bne0PiHH7mpStod8EWTLsfIz0cp19NxgQ9WqaqaoJWh54G9yP15uKviBmUXQpwryTW3tHOb0a9oDOgC6k_WVfHHVlk0b7ZtUvkBbB_WpDHZ/s320/DSC00124.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwvtkI3yF-8wrp5LC-M7uMSmzDG3bZRddTlb0W6BwzTpjTfBo3vi6x0F8rCdWMBjPn6m0lvk92vJm3zgScEutXi6Wy916vP61QziF4PelTqPaXTSFxKEuo7ZPG9FCcFwF8iyt99lRUiFN/s1600-h/DSC00134.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283533621032602258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwvtkI3yF-8wrp5LC-M7uMSmzDG3bZRddTlb0W6BwzTpjTfBo3vi6x0F8rCdWMBjPn6m0lvk92vJm3zgScEutXi6Wy916vP61QziF4PelTqPaXTSFxKEuo7ZPG9FCcFwF8iyt99lRUiFN/s320/DSC00134.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />As we wound through the mountains, we saw villages hanging off the sides of the road, the hills dropping off below them. (pics: villages on the ridge line in the mountains, each time the bus stop to drop someone off in these villages a crowd gathered)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMyGxdyc7bzkt6OXRhGDu7S11J7kH75j0aNxny0VWKPhjzJu41-vTpt72p1vn9G3w30uqM0fj-JbqflTcqGRPaP9nKpTf_FVYNRCGcaPkQfZ_PhsxRcWIDourH0uiyt4kRuy3uRVLbDDw/s1600-h/DSC00130.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283533617314355442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMyGxdyc7bzkt6OXRhGDu7S11J7kH75j0aNxny0VWKPhjzJu41-vTpt72p1vn9G3w30uqM0fj-JbqflTcqGRPaP9nKpTf_FVYNRCGcaPkQfZ_PhsxRcWIDourH0uiyt4kRuy3uRVLbDDw/s320/DSC00130.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFd2N2uhmGT4vwOawH4hUAYj9tm-QSB8D-Oaccej0aq-Y5FUF3C1fw5rQfyd2r2r02xp0H8L3xdhUmLZNQXnsAhVlEbXHl6le8f1wEi6e1th58iP9CrJFau7si-Mc6BlDTvQOPGMhvC93/s1600-h/DSC00129.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283538509935613122" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFd2N2uhmGT4vwOawH4hUAYj9tm-QSB8D-Oaccej0aq-Y5FUF3C1fw5rQfyd2r2r02xp0H8L3xdhUmLZNQXnsAhVlEbXHl6le8f1wEi6e1th58iP9CrJFau7si-Mc6BlDTvQOPGMhvC93/s320/DSC00129.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We arrived at the Phonosavan bus station, which sat it the middle of a large plain; all around the plain were hills. This was the location of the Plain of Jars. We bought a ticket for the bus back. We would have only six hours here. Meaning we’d be busing 28+ hours just for 6 hours of activity. We didn’t care. We can’t care. It was the only way to make this trip with the distances being so long. We knew Laos would be tough and we were glad to have our most difficult times at the front end of our trip. It also occurred to us that we would be spending 4 nights in a row sleeping on transportation. We quickly accepted it.<br /><br />Nearby the bus station was a guesthouse. Amy went in and looked into having a tour of the Plain of Jars. They said they would do it, but we only had to time to visit Site 1. It was the closest, with the next two much farther away. Although the Jars are elsewhere, there are many land mines still scattered across the landscape, and at these three sites only have the land mines been removed. We agreed to go, bargained the price a bit. They took us to their tour office in the tiny downtown to register us as visitors and then drove 20 minutes outside of town to the site of the Jars. The parking lot was empty. We saw only four other people there, and two of them were teenage girls doing a “fashion shoot” amongst the jars. They had brought a wide array of clothing to model. (pics: girls doing a fashion shoot amongst the jars, a close up of the models)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2YUsdBll0Zy1qHxp_25v6Zu7TFi5Ao2WRP7pl7G-VJTMWHhp7cbPyXKqbWmx7LjFqT53AWuvi_-XrY2qSha65fzdJdRvU913DyZj1wSqmPh48d3syHClF_SPSCXH88FbGxpuvajH4QE3/s1600-h/DSC00157.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525380263561762" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2YUsdBll0Zy1qHxp_25v6Zu7TFi5Ao2WRP7pl7G-VJTMWHhp7cbPyXKqbWmx7LjFqT53AWuvi_-XrY2qSha65fzdJdRvU913DyZj1wSqmPh48d3syHClF_SPSCXH88FbGxpuvajH4QE3/s320/DSC00157.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpIPYfvG1WAoWyHFCg0jaswf4HZ88E5kbjKX8uyZSQrRyhsL2DqQ9j9DOBal4sJYAtyhd7Vj-7_4VqhkD2lygkgt8cR3xVTDUK5JvmuqkxGVpg4d8Cj8W_PNBPnMQ9vc_7dYqIGv6crci/s1600-h/DSC00148.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283533627076967106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpIPYfvG1WAoWyHFCg0jaswf4HZ88E5kbjKX8uyZSQrRyhsL2DqQ9j9DOBal4sJYAtyhd7Vj-7_4VqhkD2lygkgt8cR3xVTDUK5JvmuqkxGVpg4d8Cj8W_PNBPnMQ9vc_7dYqIGv6crci/s320/DSC00148.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Jars themselves were scattered all across the area at random. Some were broken, and some were filled with water. No one really knows why they are here, or what they were used for. Of course there are many theories. This area used to me a major trading crossroads between China and India. Many events in history have thus taken place here, but now its quiet and forgotten. We took lots of photos; saw a cave that borders the site. Our guide went back to the car, and we took our “lunch” of random foods we’d acquired and ate it at a pavilion on the site. It started to drizzle a bit. We went out again anyway and took more pictures of us with the Jars. It’s cool how some are from 2000 BC. I wished to see the other sites but really didn’t have time to go out there. (pics: the warning sign about land mines outside the jars site, the jars sprawled across the field, Amy walking amongst the jars in Site 1, myself next to the largest jar at the site)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyzBc4lYcN5xv3koL4H-j9U15EdSaLOrncG03AWYQ-no913g1FbEabulxMndQkfI5FL7a-q9To9xp4WYiJ3WLNThFwcJCYsNtwgvmpSPxIRy0xcyCkA4KGnCziMyn29jYZ2RQAzSo8TlJ/s1600-h/DSC00136.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283533624630851634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyzBc4lYcN5xv3koL4H-j9U15EdSaLOrncG03AWYQ-no913g1FbEabulxMndQkfI5FL7a-q9To9xp4WYiJ3WLNThFwcJCYsNtwgvmpSPxIRy0xcyCkA4KGnCziMyn29jYZ2RQAzSo8TlJ/s320/DSC00136.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwreMcJR8RuF3hjyuTRzt0u9-w8im9muxI935mfpsBuhbBbajmMDyxIDr8FxjTazhtFcKJtQoUsHjLrS8bMqJzPxFGPT2o1kYk6i804sCe19WHHLRnCJf6HcTN1acNm-SnA36FQSSM5pA/s1600-h/DSC00149.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525385406161970" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwreMcJR8RuF3hjyuTRzt0u9-w8im9muxI935mfpsBuhbBbajmMDyxIDr8FxjTazhtFcKJtQoUsHjLrS8bMqJzPxFGPT2o1kYk6i804sCe19WHHLRnCJf6HcTN1acNm-SnA36FQSSM5pA/s320/DSC00149.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYVtuxa2QxTi8LiUEY0JBQoTj83AixHfvENXMfK4N_DDGh_frGvwOugni0tvwapkGGeudGo4e5rdz8d-n1bvYmQX0gM19rCD3Z3miBc3is01GEW0LEoDdTk7LJ5c-CInCHi9z1zYdEgv0/s1600-h/DSC00151.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525388164346962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYVtuxa2QxTi8LiUEY0JBQoTj83AixHfvENXMfK4N_DDGh_frGvwOugni0tvwapkGGeudGo4e5rdz8d-n1bvYmQX0gM19rCD3Z3miBc3is01GEW0LEoDdTk7LJ5c-CInCHi9z1zYdEgv0/s320/DSC00151.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW-XZ_cqXOlyIWa4CteuyREt1Q8wwUrHeo81HjgHU6ssM-SCU5j9EqB2EPTHZ2Egyz06Ps0-fC6ERGvNyj2ut1ZBTcVONUQ06Dz-V3pt46NzM6ayJiIvycfIBqlSAK4LVyZR3lWymmTnz/s1600-h/DSC00145.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283533624019116258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW-XZ_cqXOlyIWa4CteuyREt1Q8wwUrHeo81HjgHU6ssM-SCU5j9EqB2EPTHZ2Egyz06Ps0-fC6ERGvNyj2ut1ZBTcVONUQ06Dz-V3pt46NzM6ayJiIvycfIBqlSAK4LVyZR3lWymmTnz/s320/DSC00145.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Despite the rain, we went “hiking” around the site. We stuck to the trail because that was guaranteed to be free of land mines. At the top of a hill, with still plenty of time and nowhere but back to the car to go, we played shollo guti in the rain. From the top of the hill we could say straight out over all the plains. Our driver was antsy to go, but we had booked them for several hours, and paid plenty, so we were in no rush to appease him. (pic: Amy on our "hike" and the plain stretched out beyond)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopkVdnIeNMx0py3WkdWEaDv4Vvyt7wrAtivgl7L5ATgB-yluwwRbDl_9oqAto7VFd1IgKSmQ4cxGWK1n1MpTC52EStA6Op2IoRXY42kHHkr4TevBEe4QYnh-ZIWWBJVRql3T_EZRYYQB6/s1600-h/DSC00172.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525379939913154" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopkVdnIeNMx0py3WkdWEaDv4Vvyt7wrAtivgl7L5ATgB-yluwwRbDl_9oqAto7VFd1IgKSmQ4cxGWK1n1MpTC52EStA6Op2IoRXY42kHHkr4TevBEe4QYnh-ZIWWBJVRql3T_EZRYYQB6/s320/DSC00172.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At some point we had to go back. They took us back to the bus station and quickly they were gone. We then sat at the bus station for three hours. (pics: touts for hotels waiting for more buses to arrive, Amy sitting in the cold open air bus station)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLJxB1LlwNCykgjpPPwbOTehZX9znwPKzQ2oidD01rlSunTespycu2yfTP5E3y4D4l9WWAqi2FuE2ARELLDse3OxLOoFbNCps-8MTb_TuCuZ-yxxI75e7ML1sbaSI9po1rj0kH-mU4AyI/s1600-h/DSC00178.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525083257746146" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLJxB1LlwNCykgjpPPwbOTehZX9znwPKzQ2oidD01rlSunTespycu2yfTP5E3y4D4l9WWAqi2FuE2ARELLDse3OxLOoFbNCps-8MTb_TuCuZ-yxxI75e7ML1sbaSI9po1rj0kH-mU4AyI/s320/DSC00178.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dPRUmrtVTGmr5uf0zgqr5Dr_34HCB3dApEL7eyegC1KGY-xnYGGVvZshNHMb3GCI_zDaDicZwKY7V9CveD_QwwMZ4twfQCQu0G5oc75qyXnI5thvnKsACDU8AoCmet5DjLlIe-hA7tod/s1600-h/DSC00177.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525377042355058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dPRUmrtVTGmr5uf0zgqr5Dr_34HCB3dApEL7eyegC1KGY-xnYGGVvZshNHMb3GCI_zDaDicZwKY7V9CveD_QwwMZ4twfQCQu0G5oc75qyXnI5thvnKsACDU8AoCmet5DjLlIe-hA7tod/s320/DSC00177.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was talking to some tourist touts at the bus station who were waiting for buses to show up to bring people to hotels. One guy told me I could get sparrow to eat at the nearby food stall. He said people like to catch sparrows and sell them. Then they barbecue and eat them. Usually they sell them four per skewer. I went over to the restaurant, but they were out they said. Dang. They did offer me their choice: rat. I declined.<br /><br />We had dinner at the station. All the bus stations we find on this trip have expensive toilets to use. Always coughing up 1000-2000 kips for each time we have to pee. We thought we had time before the bus was leaving, but all of a sudden we saw everyone on board. We thought it would leave without us. We scrapped buying more snacks, and got on board. The bus sat there though until 8, when it was supposed to leave, a half hour later. Oh well. How were we to know?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-2nd in Vientiane 10/2</span><br /><br />In the middle of the night our bus made a food stop. Apparently our tickets doubled as a bus food coupon. You could exchange it for rice and curry, or a bowl of noodles. So Amy and I enjoyed our midnight noodle snack.<br />We had pretty bathroom stops again on the way back, but I haven’t really drank any water, so I just got out to stretch my legs.<br /><br />We got back to town, and we hoped to get a hotel near the city bus stand for the day, before we left at night for Vietnam. It didn’t really work out that way. Nothing was nearby except one expensive place. So we trekked into town and got a hotel room half price for 8 hours. Amy just wanted a real bed to sleep in. Despite the buses I somehow was feeling okay. So I went back out to see the city again.<br /><br />On my to-do list was to find a bookshop to buy a new book, as I was almost done with A Brief History of Time. All the shops I found selling used books, however, were too expensive; at least what I thought a used book in Laos should cost (which I felt should be on par with the new books I bought I Bangladesh, less than a dollar.) I saw lots of delicious restaurants as I walked, and I restrained myself from indulging in any of them. I need to save the money I have. I read in Vientiane’s central square, not really a major place, but quiet with a tree to give shade. I bought a postcard and then wrote it out to a friend and spent an hour finding a place to get a stamp and ultimately walked to the national post office.<br /><br />I walked into the city’s mall, and found a concert happening. A rap concert in fact, except everyone was lip synching to the English lyrics. (pic: lip-synching concert happening inside a mall in Vientiane)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirz4kLOTbCqqGjqFXVMe5TMPyaEsdzn9m7SyAw85eQcvaLL3Zpm10cSA93ow15FYyh-HvQ8O-ON9NCKg_yY91Y2jcMZTCbrfYUyhoMWbqXvLjf8Rm4XumLyBeJM6xmGiNNrzFWTm3geyfE/s1600-h/DSC00186.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525077966565074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirz4kLOTbCqqGjqFXVMe5TMPyaEsdzn9m7SyAw85eQcvaLL3Zpm10cSA93ow15FYyh-HvQ8O-ON9NCKg_yY91Y2jcMZTCbrfYUyhoMWbqXvLjf8Rm4XumLyBeJM6xmGiNNrzFWTm3geyfE/s320/DSC00186.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I hoped to find sparrow again but no luck. I did find a place that had tiny skewered poultry, but this just turned out to be chicken wings. I played make believe.<br /><br />I went back to get Amy from the hotel, and together we walked to the riverfront again to get dinner. We had really liked eating along the Mekong River. We ate at a place right next to where we ate last time. (pic: dining along the Mekong River)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPomedJNw0Lx-uw6aXwYbBadwRVnsdKREUh9m5ZmbKY-7X3EizLOtxB561RNuYsPpT40NvI5u4JSo38pO6yIYjMzjj2f3hQU7fF-kmTJidZgdXnl7gFoMKFAZrC27Mj4AGcqC1Mg8HSPnu/s1600-h/DSC00190.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525079167940978" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPomedJNw0Lx-uw6aXwYbBadwRVnsdKREUh9m5ZmbKY-7X3EizLOtxB561RNuYsPpT40NvI5u4JSo38pO6yIYjMzjj2f3hQU7fF-kmTJidZgdXnl7gFoMKFAZrC27Mj4AGcqC1Mg8HSPnu/s320/DSC00190.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />When we had booked the ticket to Vietnam, we were very unsure how long the bus would take. We had asked the woman the duration, and she had said we would arrive at 12am. Well that meant he trip would be 30 hours long, or 6. We were confused. I think she meant 12pm, and that would put us at 18 hours. But we still arrived unsure. We found our bus, and a helpful bus worker got our bags on and we took some seats on board. We bought French loaves for the trip, as we both didn’t want to have upset stomachs. Just something to fill us.<br />We sat with the other passengers in the parking lot in front of the bus. Then all of a sudden we were leaving. Everyone scrambled on board, including us. We sat in our seats. Some pushy scary woman came up to us and started yelling. We didn’t know what to do. She was speaking Vietnamese. We finally realized she wanted us to change seats, but we didn’t know where to go to. The helpful bus worker came up and motioned for us to sit two rows back, and cleared the luggage someone had placed there. It was a pretty dramatic scene. (pic: our bus to Vietnam is on the right and the helpful bus worker is sitting with the baseball cap in front)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnDovvVl_oyiBAoAdJdmq2kOFO1jRTPaeLG5Mo-gYyFNlFlIc21gZVs1bMIlgbUxm4Y8HArl7LtlQ6kEs7G5kQDSxKguh53aknFmcIRat-yDupJkOrJ9e5VKx6n5XAxt8zSiSP32OwNDO/s1600-h/DSC00196.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525074597249954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnDovvVl_oyiBAoAdJdmq2kOFO1jRTPaeLG5Mo-gYyFNlFlIc21gZVs1bMIlgbUxm4Y8HArl7LtlQ6kEs7G5kQDSxKguh53aknFmcIRat-yDupJkOrJ9e5VKx6n5XAxt8zSiSP32OwNDO/s320/DSC00196.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I enjoyed watching the helpful bus worker’s activity. He would jump off the bus while it was moving, sprint to somewhere on the side of the street. Drop something off, then sprint back to the bus and jump back on. This happened several times.<br /><br />We stopped for a dinner break after 3 hours or so. Everyone got off, but Amy and I just nibbled bread. I saw inside that everyone was drinking. I mentioned it to Amy, “Amy, everyone inside is drinking a beer.” Then I noticed the one person not, “Wait almost everyone. You’ll be glad to know the driver’s drinking milk.” We laughed at that the rest of the trip.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-3rd in Hue 10/3</span><br /><br />We got through the central part of Laos faster than I thought we would. We knew we’d arrive at the border in the morning, and we did, before it opened. It was about 3 AM. The whole bus was told to get off and sit in a restaurant. The owner of the place collected all our passports, and had the foreigners sit by him as he went through them. We found it difficult to keep our eyes on our passports like we wanted to. They put them in a plastic bag, just like they did at the Bangladesh-India border, and kept them themselves. We now had to wait 2.5 hours until the Laos side of the border opened.<br /><br />The helpful bus worker had our passports, and he made sure to get the foreign ones processed first. He gave them back to us and had us fill out the Vietnamese immigration form. Then took back our passports. He seemed to like to hold onto them. It had us worried a bit. All this time Amy and I are both fretting about getting into Vietnam. I have the two visas because of the mishap with them giving me the wrong month initially, and hers wasn’t in her passport, but had been one mailed to her.<br /><br />Then the time came. The Vietnam border opened and the helpful bus worker came running at us visibly excited. He shoved our passports in our hands, and started gesturing for us to run to the border yelling “Vietnam! Vietnam!” He was pointing vividly, shouting, very animated. So we power walked it to the elaborate gorgeous gates marking the entry into each country. Amy and I were the third and fourth people to cross that morning. We realized he wanted the foreigners to get across quickly so we could be processed first, as we likely would take longer. His wild antics definitely spurred us to action. This became the second quote of the trip “Vietnam! Vietnam!”<br /><br />We were on our way. The ride to Hue from the border was about 4 hours. We were unsure of where to get off, and almost got off north of town. Got off in the middle of town and walked to find a hotel. We found a nice place and asked to see rooms. The guy bargained down the price and the rooms were huge, so we gladly took it. Honestly, we think we were the first people every to stay there. They seemed so unsure how to handle us as guests. We were glad to have full size beds, each! Nicest place we stayed at on our whole trip.<br /><br />We took motorcycles to go to the train station. A persistent man on his motorcycle had been following us all morning trying to get us to go with him. They function as taxis here. Well I was hesitant as I’ve only been on a motorcycle once before with Nafisa’s uncle in Khulna. We decided to go for it. The guy grabbed another motorcycle taxi, and Amy and I each hopped on the back, putting on our helmets. (pics: myself on the back of my motorcycle taxi, Amy on the back of her motorcycle taxi, Amy's driver/Amy show directly displaying their level of comfort on the bike)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdnW64DP5VtwlSdibuKcbrENJGzNqkx-D7W0Yh3wli8yiY5sepneUN0DX2yWLnAZweHoSdzs6cvHHIFj6oNA2KGXkG8qqMxI-GTGSY4z0pIOR-MLqdBtVaN2mNRibnmbTpx7UY3IdxNoV/s1600-h/DSC00228.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524752019963330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdnW64DP5VtwlSdibuKcbrENJGzNqkx-D7W0Yh3wli8yiY5sepneUN0DX2yWLnAZweHoSdzs6cvHHIFj6oNA2KGXkG8qqMxI-GTGSY4z0pIOR-MLqdBtVaN2mNRibnmbTpx7UY3IdxNoV/s320/DSC00228.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyQnbMu0meGX3sFdvMI7OJChh-dy3uM7dmE9zSzGluLGN-BbvSqDP96g5Pdoc_az7IB-eCdzLb5cigTO33dnOIsbwHyitids8eGP9qRVFUhEJ7gVrUHDeEhS0ujHQw-fsqAcjxJG_Pfcb/s1600-h/DSC00221.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524756147359666" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyQnbMu0meGX3sFdvMI7OJChh-dy3uM7dmE9zSzGluLGN-BbvSqDP96g5Pdoc_az7IB-eCdzLb5cigTO33dnOIsbwHyitids8eGP9qRVFUhEJ7gVrUHDeEhS0ujHQw-fsqAcjxJG_Pfcb/s320/DSC00221.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQ2EA6-Vz-7tfx-cHlxbhSg1R7WEtzRbNHHDMrGPn_4ykrVDzfVEJ4uDLLzFhDIOY2umL01glQKfQt2laXAPFfin2nTT2U_aIUemx-o5mtVLp55qUEHFKz_omUlIcfz1Z4bnpEIf9Br2t/s1600-h/DSC00219.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283525068124444290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQ2EA6-Vz-7tfx-cHlxbhSg1R7WEtzRbNHHDMrGPn_4ykrVDzfVEJ4uDLLzFhDIOY2umL01glQKfQt2laXAPFfin2nTT2U_aIUemx-o5mtVLp55qUEHFKz_omUlIcfz1Z4bnpEIf9Br2t/s320/DSC00219.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It was a blast. Not nearly as scary as I though it’d be. The guys drove safely, and were pointing out things to us (trying to win future business.) They were polite and friendly. We were just two of the many bikes roaming the streets. Vietnam really is a motorbike based transportation system. They were everywhere. Everyone has one. (pic: bikes and motorcycles are the primary mode of transport all over Vietnam like seen her in Hue)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPVEH1_-3T37_Vi33IXrxTQEfuAFSgrSY_vrpwiOyhvU2cYHDPKjvSViEJb9WlpVLqtQNa1Rlf8huY8VCngRB7526lwxwAKwWEbH2UZo3Gf9gGsVpzgoWjDNHhdq-NqWXQoe2gCWPlmBr/s1600-h/DSC00234.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524748106794018" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPVEH1_-3T37_Vi33IXrxTQEfuAFSgrSY_vrpwiOyhvU2cYHDPKjvSViEJb9WlpVLqtQNa1Rlf8huY8VCngRB7526lwxwAKwWEbH2UZo3Gf9gGsVpzgoWjDNHhdq-NqWXQoe2gCWPlmBr/s320/DSC00234.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We got to the train station and we bought tickets for tomorrow morning down to Ho Chi Minh City.<br /><br />We took the motorcycle taxis to a restaurant they suggested. We would realize later it was one of the cheapest ones around, yet still delicious. We declined their offers to have a day tour, we really didn’t want one. Still they waited until we were done eating and followed us back to our hotel.<br /><br />From our hotel we walked to the Old Imperial city. Hue was the capital of Vietnam during its last dynasty. As well, it got destroyed during the Vietnam War as it was the closest city to the demilitarized zone. The place was worth exploring and see all the architecture. This is my first time seeing true Chinese-inspired buildings.<br />A huge Vietnamese flag flew over the old wall of the city. The place is being heavily restored after the damage done from the war. (pics: myself underneath the huge Vietnamese flag flying over the Citadel's wall, Amy and the Imperial City, inside the Imperial City which was mostly destroyed in the Vietnam War, the ornamental gardens and buildings in the Imperial City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WspFSEu2InzVv0FdvXHYI7Vj7Jygm60sPXO4GfdUvdf3KpQ8sKbAI3XkA2kGF3E5J-K06dS2Cu2xsI81C1SpjA9h-0pgIe1d79LOpNujInsTQmZtREweWU8ZQptDY8DXdpMixYahrthN/s1600-h/DSC00239.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524740639254546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WspFSEu2InzVv0FdvXHYI7Vj7Jygm60sPXO4GfdUvdf3KpQ8sKbAI3XkA2kGF3E5J-K06dS2Cu2xsI81C1SpjA9h-0pgIe1d79LOpNujInsTQmZtREweWU8ZQptDY8DXdpMixYahrthN/s320/DSC00239.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGwzuTTVOZvCuxRIdDOpUBiFRbLeruSJbVg9qTjACqKipLtw4GgUz8RU2i_aPYFGjGj094-ZJ237DHE3vSf7vTTodTgdOTYSxFrTpPE1LRqrdEO9o0w_juTpSIKlQ78waXrrCkuy500tz/s1600-h/DSC00241.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524734969144898" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGwzuTTVOZvCuxRIdDOpUBiFRbLeruSJbVg9qTjACqKipLtw4GgUz8RU2i_aPYFGjGj094-ZJ237DHE3vSf7vTTodTgdOTYSxFrTpPE1LRqrdEO9o0w_juTpSIKlQ78waXrrCkuy500tz/s320/DSC00241.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGPeMmCIE-ATsC6V4R_Z1Ubd3Az3sdbMYkhdk-2ANAyV6nVSNr8JqV4aqpYhceHmxLH5Ud3uXYOFpVcE4ARL6lM0zmMX8Xe-TF4wgUzD1I_6WImGagubMvWfUSaZexOfAEWm44aDSflgF/s1600-h/DSC00257.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524449226427890" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGPeMmCIE-ATsC6V4R_Z1Ubd3Az3sdbMYkhdk-2ANAyV6nVSNr8JqV4aqpYhceHmxLH5Ud3uXYOFpVcE4ARL6lM0zmMX8Xe-TF4wgUzD1I_6WImGagubMvWfUSaZexOfAEWm44aDSflgF/s320/DSC00257.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm46EWnOY9DQFkvKq8qO6tgfxN4lHmlm8mE5v_KCZcLctdfjbtEGv9Bqx0bTGQ1FI1jVOOOBuH68jXPDIWekMyHvkzdBPzaDzfgP4jIyWul18PhUdnZ_SyZySq3rdLujEhsBSakjhSRRTF/s1600-h/DSC00256.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524467756303346" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm46EWnOY9DQFkvKq8qO6tgfxN4lHmlm8mE5v_KCZcLctdfjbtEGv9Bqx0bTGQ1FI1jVOOOBuH68jXPDIWekMyHvkzdBPzaDzfgP4jIyWul18PhUdnZ_SyZySq3rdLujEhsBSakjhSRRTF/s320/DSC00256.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We stopped in to see a cultural show. There were two classes of seats, normal and deluxe. The deluxe got served imperial tea and biscuits during the half hour show. Normal got a bottle of water. We chose normal. And so did everyone else. The reserved deluxe front two rows remained empty! A bit awkward to sit and watch the show from so far back and have two empty rows in front of us.<br />I liked the show as I never really go to see cultural programs. They did several dances and musical numbers. However the performers were a bit uninspired and looked like they wanted to leave. That was dampening. (pic: the cultural show)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdTbT06kKfnsQ9raZANyiwvQ7qndCRYTswgLaoc_cekuxMzEMxQNE2SWSdJMcmatF8bqEQwrK4mB0moAdC7Qj6x6fxDqSlcXvObMUBApBGsOu5TGbJh_qYYywW87YhyCTxuX5eeULFxg6/s1600-h/DSC00267.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524458736982738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdTbT06kKfnsQ9raZANyiwvQ7qndCRYTswgLaoc_cekuxMzEMxQNE2SWSdJMcmatF8bqEQwrK4mB0moAdC7Qj6x6fxDqSlcXvObMUBApBGsOu5TGbJh_qYYywW87YhyCTxuX5eeULFxg6/s320/DSC00267.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Showered tonight and had a nice bed. Realized it had been 5 days since I last had one, and in that time I’d seen 3 countries as well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-4th on train to Ho Chi Minh City 10/4</span><br /><br />Today we took the Reunification Train 23 hours south to Ho Chi Minh City.<br /><br />Breakfast for me was bread, cheese, egg, and tomato. I also got black coffee and green tea. That’s what EVERYONE was having. They all mixed their green tea and coffee too. So I also tried it. The black coffee was served on ice. It was amazing to me how each person was having the exact same thing. I was embarrassed to order anything else. (pics: the outdoor breakfast joint at which everyone was enjoying the same thing, the green tea and black coffee that everyone was drinking!)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhTQo5rhc2yodicfpnHOGKWOm3kyUlLoT3rof-zxMZzOFBrgmABZgQ8F_A3afp4jAtSwqTNClVXf5bCM125m8JFNCSj3oyB98udc5Me8nKW7pWBIREAA8wy4-t6IH53a48-OgeC2e9hin/s1600-h/DSC00284.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524449275569778" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhTQo5rhc2yodicfpnHOGKWOm3kyUlLoT3rof-zxMZzOFBrgmABZgQ8F_A3afp4jAtSwqTNClVXf5bCM125m8JFNCSj3oyB98udc5Me8nKW7pWBIREAA8wy4-t6IH53a48-OgeC2e9hin/s320/DSC00284.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPLItFmuReSXbAjs1ZJeanIJSOs13ByUWPRF1M4_jl7tmR9Z0oasPru6nZmNvC4jKP7LQojXpJ2wAWdzYbtmCEjn6nT1YkNSyqixVJZ-8tRXBSsRzczbIDFPNdJvdHMzLWGGcrSIQ-9uC/s1600-h/DSC00282.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524456986957954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPLItFmuReSXbAjs1ZJeanIJSOs13ByUWPRF1M4_jl7tmR9Z0oasPru6nZmNvC4jKP7LQojXpJ2wAWdzYbtmCEjn6nT1YkNSyqixVJZ-8tRXBSsRzczbIDFPNdJvdHMzLWGGcrSIQ-9uC/s320/DSC00282.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We were sharing our cabin with a young couple with a baby, and luckily it didn’t cry. However when it was sleeping we tried to leave the cabin. We played an epic round of Shed, the game Ben taught me in May. We decided to play until someone won 10 times, and went all 19 possible matches to get a winner. Amy won. (pics: Amy waiting as the train arrives, Amy playing Shed on the train)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnE_at0zsqm3hlnMpsOt0OglNGfNjzZwaXXVsFj2OfcNN-l1JDzDDCSOUrphJdj5wnHx2I5VjJGZDJqAJVKUZIXoh_ctNovbVZulW0NCrpVjHDhR7XQVy28Zp-bzWEJsP8aU-hgUBMNBxc/s1600-h/DSC00286.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524151523293570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnE_at0zsqm3hlnMpsOt0OglNGfNjzZwaXXVsFj2OfcNN-l1JDzDDCSOUrphJdj5wnHx2I5VjJGZDJqAJVKUZIXoh_ctNovbVZulW0NCrpVjHDhR7XQVy28Zp-bzWEJsP8aU-hgUBMNBxc/s320/DSC00286.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVttogWrh7sJzvFXDLe3Zg5WgB3cKl2PgPQivPK1ROa1lkkQbAHQL1nOldpzWT9o9-SEGA7lt5vsxw5VJVFTyaRdAQnvFBEAUA3jIX3cUL3bCCQTGMo1XDk0Vai1W1cC_XyXHEyGT5EyX/s1600-h/DSC00290.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524146520905954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVttogWrh7sJzvFXDLe3Zg5WgB3cKl2PgPQivPK1ROa1lkkQbAHQL1nOldpzWT9o9-SEGA7lt5vsxw5VJVFTyaRdAQnvFBEAUA3jIX3cUL3bCCQTGMo1XDk0Vai1W1cC_XyXHEyGT5EyX/s320/DSC00290.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The train was really nice. Clean and had good toilets. There was a dining cabin on the opposite end of the train from us, and I enjoyed walking through the train to get there. The train tracks followed the ocean and mountains for awhile until the land flatted out. It was a long distance south, and mostly we were several miles from the coast except for the one that part where we were hugging cliffs. (pics: an island on the Vietnamese coast that the train passed, myself and the rocky coastline, the train passing through fields at the edge of the hills, homes and fields stretching out from the train to the hills)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74zFf7sV-Xx3nHDFpN_oGLPGxqCrxKgR9t9j8ut8nb22VueSo5pt1Mg30qDf6eewgwpjPajMR8qhsF1G85qmchUg4cA2ovzZOgBNneq3nIFhh2TvVYseJVfO8V3MfRyK6tubZ_4kCIyJr/s1600-h/DSC00312.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524138646060514" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74zFf7sV-Xx3nHDFpN_oGLPGxqCrxKgR9t9j8ut8nb22VueSo5pt1Mg30qDf6eewgwpjPajMR8qhsF1G85qmchUg4cA2ovzZOgBNneq3nIFhh2TvVYseJVfO8V3MfRyK6tubZ_4kCIyJr/s320/DSC00312.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4k-RVCV3rEjSfRu-8WCN5xsEwmQNW5U6rS6-Z8kUXQNt7B3hBwZ9RST9GMbRiOBQvYsgHwgdNhhxZoFFvDrgwWwIiPlWb8T8zNNId2t7LsKs5wDyiyqLTKTcy8Youp33FcQeuuGhFlgw/s1600-h/DSC00318.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524136733989954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4k-RVCV3rEjSfRu-8WCN5xsEwmQNW5U6rS6-Z8kUXQNt7B3hBwZ9RST9GMbRiOBQvYsgHwgdNhhxZoFFvDrgwWwIiPlWb8T8zNNId2t7LsKs5wDyiyqLTKTcy8Youp33FcQeuuGhFlgw/s320/DSC00318.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQyWVcBmReNKRid0-RdtHuIImsFdHL0TXsx-JYz4Ix0lMmTps9noPddRNmUCOxOtcjH2S8DE9M8YBVchfKlJIJXnKwwFjY_6bRWCYnABOB_6_99Ic8ei0LSWL7DhbrIxjPB1151OuzeucY/s1600-h/DSC00296.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283524139334907218" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQyWVcBmReNKRid0-RdtHuIImsFdHL0TXsx-JYz4Ix0lMmTps9noPddRNmUCOxOtcjH2S8DE9M8YBVchfKlJIJXnKwwFjY_6bRWCYnABOB_6_99Ic8ei0LSWL7DhbrIxjPB1151OuzeucY/s320/DSC00296.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdlDKEJph9s6adNqKgA54TCQ7CmZI3gwzo3j068epWXlO8G0cWKNIIuVAsNeioUA1Ah-LlPUJxZAB5o9pWxs-QQ1KIeT6_Z7Sd3jj81vLfSDlJ_ToSrQ5-Z2El4h5mJmbFaQqgCKqTYlW/s1600-h/DSC00325.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523679591723090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdlDKEJph9s6adNqKgA54TCQ7CmZI3gwzo3j068epWXlO8G0cWKNIIuVAsNeioUA1Ah-LlPUJxZAB5o9pWxs-QQ1KIeT6_Z7Sd3jj81vLfSDlJ_ToSrQ5-Z2El4h5mJmbFaQqgCKqTYlW/s320/DSC00325.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Besides playing lots of cards, we worked on planning the next part of our trip in Ho Chi Minh and a bit into Cambodia. We even discussed what beach to go to in Thailand, and how exactly we’d schedule all this. This whole trip we were always planning off the cuff.<br /><br />Lunch and dinner both could’ve been eaten in the cabin, but we enjoyed going down to the dining car. It had only six tables, and never were they all filled. The food was great for a train, and I wolfed it down. At night after dinner we sat with Cokes and played cards until they closed the car.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-5th in Ho Chi Minh City 10/5</span><br /><br />The train arrived one hour late, but that was okay, as it was better for moving about in the daylight. We got to the tourist area and set about finding a hotel. We found one with a good price quickly. We got some breakfast: fruit shakes and some French bread sandwiches. Then we booked our bus to Cambodia; we’ll leave in two mornings on a bus direct to Siem Reap. Then we went and checked our email. All of this before 9 AM.<br /><br />We meandered over to Ho Chi Minh City’s central market. It was crowded, but much more organized than what we had in Dhaka. Someone woman grabbed Amy’s arm though and wouldn’t let it go. I had to step in and tell her hands off. We made sure to pass by the Reunification Palace where the North Vietnamese officially ended the war. We found our way to the War Remnants Museum but decided we’d visit it later as they close for lunch, and it was almost time. (pics: Amy in front of the Reunification Palace, everywhere we went in the city we saw people taking wedding photos, the predominant motorcycle traffic mix in Ho Chi Minh City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDflXzfdrl8VY-5b5I5u_9g3NXZfih5cdk9o_vLcyxGZVA1IuWyHh4A4Iq1DavepA4oYo-xNrm7_hCtLOk8Kfc4O9Ro8msaAG3qPAm4kwslxVberd579ZbW50NJzsakOg7CsBGUR_9E47N/s1600-h/DSC00347.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523666501397106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDflXzfdrl8VY-5b5I5u_9g3NXZfih5cdk9o_vLcyxGZVA1IuWyHh4A4Iq1DavepA4oYo-xNrm7_hCtLOk8Kfc4O9Ro8msaAG3qPAm4kwslxVberd579ZbW50NJzsakOg7CsBGUR_9E47N/s320/DSC00347.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCks7W0bhOVZhNVXccPlNm-q_BzipGtC5ETmbuodAZdvI-Qur6sY5s7NHENNVTG7WIqORVy6JszNkWox2FljbJnbQJgaYBKWV0htv5PQktVafR3AHLLOzOTS-JLZdCPc9Y8-mREIAU7YV/s1600-h/DSC00350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523662815838242" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCks7W0bhOVZhNVXccPlNm-q_BzipGtC5ETmbuodAZdvI-Qur6sY5s7NHENNVTG7WIqORVy6JszNkWox2FljbJnbQJgaYBKWV0htv5PQktVafR3AHLLOzOTS-JLZdCPc9Y8-mREIAU7YV/s320/DSC00350.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YVdCt8njSqCxsNvrEMjj9sY4DBbzPSXlFo0ugWMqKchntAy-4VHE9Xi4EEeEYncJD0kYhmDJi6AinFwWSBLi8bphaJw-ltBlOR5h60tRQnU56n12QPn30xUNDAWCg7AgfZgiwRkbU3x2/s1600-h/DSC00338.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523681402950594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YVdCt8njSqCxsNvrEMjj9sY4DBbzPSXlFo0ugWMqKchntAy-4VHE9Xi4EEeEYncJD0kYhmDJi6AinFwWSBLi8bphaJw-ltBlOR5h60tRQnU56n12QPn30xUNDAWCg7AgfZgiwRkbU3x2/s320/DSC00338.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the meantime we walked quite a ways to visit the Emperor Jade Pagoda. This place came highly recommended, but it was a bit difficult to find for us. It was a Chinese style pagoda, and was central to the Cantonese community living in Ho Chi Minh City. Inside the many incense sticks and the dark interior made it look smoky. It smelled good though. People were milling around praying at their own pace. Foreigners snapped photos in between, no restrictions at all. The place was smaller than I thought it would be. (pics: ceiling and lintel in the Jade Emperor Pagoda, myself/Amy on the pagoda's roof, one of the shrines and offerings in the Jade Emperor Pagoda, the smoky interior and the sun rays coming in)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFc4_TaU7HcvpjqbbAs81iAaEpOAfWLJTARq5DhwiCJ9f2xsQLKXHYsej2Hd3__1pzwZZ0PPQkZzeRO46XidJa2byNFjfSSpGqK8ayAkUu__LQVQjMhd83bqxom1qaN81LJ-gjVNqFm0G/s1600-h/DSC00364.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523656410015538" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFc4_TaU7HcvpjqbbAs81iAaEpOAfWLJTARq5DhwiCJ9f2xsQLKXHYsej2Hd3__1pzwZZ0PPQkZzeRO46XidJa2byNFjfSSpGqK8ayAkUu__LQVQjMhd83bqxom1qaN81LJ-gjVNqFm0G/s320/DSC00364.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1OPIY2hphffexXAy8yCHTsW3xgBbAsXbgFRi8wDH917w9pukIpPy0Qgx1kyjekaj_xNW1RV6bVinsu6cOVplvpwVd0l4Xsk0qyQQ2CxZiefPBuFmPD6SDQWhK0lsYMDmYL3At_RzLv76/s1600-h/DSC00368.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523431183229458" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1OPIY2hphffexXAy8yCHTsW3xgBbAsXbgFRi8wDH917w9pukIpPy0Qgx1kyjekaj_xNW1RV6bVinsu6cOVplvpwVd0l4Xsk0qyQQ2CxZiefPBuFmPD6SDQWhK0lsYMDmYL3At_RzLv76/s320/DSC00368.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IIxwPwIr2hi6iTpppeec6xuQggfqxgS8WuJwx8y1bH1J2a4J_A2r3DaT9BxAl5-84UDe9ckikxXRJYA2iRISXg01moRWDcNkn80MVz-QjOo30Qp0_6MVzgZG29-4u9LGGGMSuv7Eix8I/s1600-h/DSC00375.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523428059611602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IIxwPwIr2hi6iTpppeec6xuQggfqxgS8WuJwx8y1bH1J2a4J_A2r3DaT9BxAl5-84UDe9ckikxXRJYA2iRISXg01moRWDcNkn80MVz-QjOo30Qp0_6MVzgZG29-4u9LGGGMSuv7Eix8I/s320/DSC00375.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__YwJFkNAIrgiO8rkw2wfOOvtLUtx_VAeKgtntHxoVuChaygvPiv17OvqKJpPYpU48L6PP3MM7wVwVL0-e4ROu10b2mOdYCZzHIzkEep2an1-6NNW7fVrKJYxiD4NhruO1lhc6JrWIeQF/s1600-h/DSC00380.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523422414460258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__YwJFkNAIrgiO8rkw2wfOOvtLUtx_VAeKgtntHxoVuChaygvPiv17OvqKJpPYpU48L6PP3MM7wVwVL0-e4ROu10b2mOdYCZzHIzkEep2an1-6NNW7fVrKJYxiD4NhruO1lhc6JrWIeQF/s320/DSC00380.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Instead of heading straight back to the museum, we detoured into the center part of the city, and went past the famous Catholic Church. We went searching for a place for lunch, and it began to rain. We got under my umbrella and just chose the first place we could find, next to our museum.<br /><br />The War Remnants Museum was very powerful. I learned so much about the Vietnam War that I had never known before. The images and stories left me speechless. I had not known the atrocities thar had been committed while in Vietnam. Apparently I also had not understood the war in general very well. The displays had so much information, you can’t leave feeling you didn’t learn something. (pics: inside the War Remnants Museum)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNksosDxl0kxFqXXsoEIidVSO9T_NAJ3O9E-xNsfh2zw7z4FTX4w0Y5LxyauOGvmbur55WvrAJ3uahBu4LPi190i1r-N05dUQPdgBuUMDt8vVT0y-bosX5oHm7D4y12cX4BBypYM72aax/s1600-h/DSC00395.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283523425619476882" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNksosDxl0kxFqXXsoEIidVSO9T_NAJ3O9E-xNsfh2zw7z4FTX4w0Y5LxyauOGvmbur55WvrAJ3uahBu4LPi190i1r-N05dUQPdgBuUMDt8vVT0y-bosX5oHm7D4y12cX4BBypYM72aax/s320/DSC00395.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Back in the tourist area we went online and bought a plane ticket from Phuket to Kuala Lumpur and a train ticket from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore. We had spent a lot of time discussing which in Thailand to go to, and how we’d schedule our time. We realized at some point we’d have to take a plane flight, and the leg we booked made the most sense, beating out Siem Reap to Bangkok and Bangkok to Phukhet. We chose Phuket basically because it had an airport, even thought we knew it’d be tourist crazy. The train was the perfect way to travel from KL to Singapore. We accepted we only had time to see one city in Malaysia.<br /><br />We went out to dinner with her friend Rachel who she had worked with in Taiwan. Rachel now teaches English in Ho Chi Minh City, and came across town to pick us up on her motorcycle. We got a second motorcycle taxi to take me, and Amy jumped behind her. Rachel took us to one restaurant but she didn’t know it would be closed. She then got lost bringing us to the restaurant where her boyfriend was. She had us going in circles around the city. Ho Chi Minh City is packed with motorbikes. It’s very crazy driving around, worse when you’re lost. My driver said we went the wrong way on some streets and made some other moving violations…uhoh.<br /><br />We arrived at the restaurant her boyfriend was at. It was an Irish Pub. As far as I can remember, it was the most expensive place Amy and I ate during our whole trip. The food was delicious, especially the nachos, so it was clearly worth it. Her boyfriend and his friends, all from England, were great to spend the evening with. On the way back we zipped through traffic on our bikes again, and I took some video of it.(video: Amy and Rachel driving through the madhouse of motorcycle traffic in Ho Chi Minh City) <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxRqlSc2SkH6Ywsgc6uMf5s_FUDitX-aC_iBnht-FAxQSM5_Bq7QUIF60TV3X2PwR5RWplM9eURR1r_oRQGMg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />We went to a local drinking hole, which had plastic small tables and stools. Lots of African guys were watching soccer. Beer was cheap. We were sitting right on the street side. Next to us was a guy hawking dried fish if I remember right.(pics: Rachel/Amy parking Rachel's motorcycle, Rachel/Amy at the local drinking hole)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8R98ItrM7k6xMa6nHR1mQMi1mHAQvVzKMx467RatVHmkezdWfhgtS4zm-Nr2Oypj9CzqD3PdD86dGJ4C_ost9mCW689ZyRXGCqJlBVBEu72hH9bAUHJPSRogCZwBNnA_Y3-RBNVYTMldh/s1600-h/DSC00409.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511742030761394" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8R98ItrM7k6xMa6nHR1mQMi1mHAQvVzKMx467RatVHmkezdWfhgtS4zm-Nr2Oypj9CzqD3PdD86dGJ4C_ost9mCW689ZyRXGCqJlBVBEu72hH9bAUHJPSRogCZwBNnA_Y3-RBNVYTMldh/s320/DSC00409.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HfMXi-JUG7rhPevSkCSPjP0IZWytnonECoV4rMvSj2XW7XbRGZnc5t_J4M1c9yyFmCQnUtQ6tuKAzShhgGVi-JmwZ8WoxWtKDXruKtvn76kEB7Am1RAmaH-pjis83zWl5WftbmPmPdZi/s1600-h/DSC00412.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511738918093154" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HfMXi-JUG7rhPevSkCSPjP0IZWytnonECoV4rMvSj2XW7XbRGZnc5t_J4M1c9yyFmCQnUtQ6tuKAzShhgGVi-JmwZ8WoxWtKDXruKtvn76kEB7Am1RAmaH-pjis83zWl5WftbmPmPdZi/s320/DSC00412.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />57th-6th in Ho Chi Minh City 10/6</span><br /><br />Today was our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai temple. I woke up feeling tired. They gathered us for the tour from the place we booked it at and took us to the bus. There were about 12 of us on the tour.<br /><br />The first stop was a crafts store, which was not advertised as part of the agenda, but magically became part of it. After showing us how the hardworking people make the crafts, they showed us the gallery, with lots of things to buy overly priced. The only people I saw fall for it were three young Australian dudes. Unannounced stops for you to be “expected” to buy stuff are never really a hit with me or anyone else I’ve met. (pics: making the crafts, selling the crafts at high prices)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYPrqIcICepjgGVHcIGHqKBI_Z6s2jaZ6i2gIizswkBkUReirkV5psO3C6OH9Hz-5VcwHvgPtAshYohAEdg-B0aUqgQW1meerTdhdUzjxhucuEOOYLjvA90p1RW-HYkBtypLR-Rzpw4N9/s1600-h/DSC00418.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511732731389778" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYPrqIcICepjgGVHcIGHqKBI_Z6s2jaZ6i2gIizswkBkUReirkV5psO3C6OH9Hz-5VcwHvgPtAshYohAEdg-B0aUqgQW1meerTdhdUzjxhucuEOOYLjvA90p1RW-HYkBtypLR-Rzpw4N9/s320/DSC00418.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHKhAeQVfxVro0AHi_B3AYnkNxfRmHCBaepyJlkIrnrQk20Ptd51mRgWVXggLx32QFJuMMHmzIxMbfEQ21_soiDlmaaOPiFhLgOLBbxfIOia66WnfJhBbojc-iZA3AYSK6YnB42JEwjN6/s1600-h/DSC00419.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511728778755346" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHKhAeQVfxVro0AHi_B3AYnkNxfRmHCBaepyJlkIrnrQk20Ptd51mRgWVXggLx32QFJuMMHmzIxMbfEQ21_soiDlmaaOPiFhLgOLBbxfIOia66WnfJhBbojc-iZA3AYSK6YnB42JEwjN6/s320/DSC00419.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Finally we were on our way. The first real stop was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cao_Dai">Cao Dai temple</a>. It is an indigenous religion to Vietnam that combines Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, Confuscism, and Islam. The three middle ones are the primary contributors. But the temple looked a lot like a basilica form church. We got to walk around the perimeter of their temple, and then go up to the balcony to see a service. They pray four times a day. They each had different color robes on, and I guessed to Amy that that meant what part of the religion they follow. Guide told us later, and it turned out I was right. (pics: interior of Cao Dai temple, main altar at Cao Dai temple, prayer service beginning, exterior of Cao Dai temple)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2QFNvT55ok2MHWiTf5sJb2nDwC5676Cl_xTZgl6_rsK4C_KW84E87w_8vLC-xnljcyDyoLdW0NAzvxoIvglHv5BiMdozeDyFj1TOB7g7NOAEykQykYvU0c0AdDTvv3MsgL_DbtVv9T7P/s1600-h/DSC00428.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511261379870642" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2QFNvT55ok2MHWiTf5sJb2nDwC5676Cl_xTZgl6_rsK4C_KW84E87w_8vLC-xnljcyDyoLdW0NAzvxoIvglHv5BiMdozeDyFj1TOB7g7NOAEykQykYvU0c0AdDTvv3MsgL_DbtVv9T7P/s320/DSC00428.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUWbvvQauESR-GYS6kuUWRjClw57YOxzsjDvX491uPCvi5DW6l2UpX1vz6AiYYIAX9tTa6dKJH98OtB4oYC8DUGTPu9V53H1I2ZlL_QJpstbRzuu_xj4-rlzUKmh_ryIOxYM1cQJ2jITG/s1600-h/DSC00431.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511261347406210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUWbvvQauESR-GYS6kuUWRjClw57YOxzsjDvX491uPCvi5DW6l2UpX1vz6AiYYIAX9tTa6dKJH98OtB4oYC8DUGTPu9V53H1I2ZlL_QJpstbRzuu_xj4-rlzUKmh_ryIOxYM1cQJ2jITG/s320/DSC00431.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTa_Htm8zHOKHZXT-M4Gb679U7e0iUWs4bLU5eHQ55DiSpSiXZ37s4uVywIdF6xvFKLwmGPnSlAJcllW06lyPXu0HP3nPet6QoW-bKin7Vmh6C0QOPiTClE9HDKmrTapeptxA4UH32NKV/s1600-h/DSC00437.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511254446772146" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTa_Htm8zHOKHZXT-M4Gb679U7e0iUWs4bLU5eHQ55DiSpSiXZ37s4uVywIdF6xvFKLwmGPnSlAJcllW06lyPXu0HP3nPet6QoW-bKin7Vmh6C0QOPiTClE9HDKmrTapeptxA4UH32NKV/s320/DSC00437.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWytSSVuWE8-DY3WocenlRyvXihZj0kSVITf2q59MnHPeM3qVcnayMeFXgs2fNqJXQGJcW55w1i7KyO-8derB9ZDuzzH3-d-R1knJtzrVdGg5PnciN0mb0hEw4LZZGj-uIE8_3Xz-bkw3/s1600-h/DSC00427.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511266383426818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWytSSVuWE8-DY3WocenlRyvXihZj0kSVITf2q59MnHPeM3qVcnayMeFXgs2fNqJXQGJcW55w1i7KyO-8derB9ZDuzzH3-d-R1knJtzrVdGg5PnciN0mb0hEw4LZZGj-uIE8_3Xz-bkw3/s320/DSC00427.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Cu Chi tunnels were pretty neat, although I wish we had gotten to spend more time inside the tunnels, and seen more of them. We went through a 40 meter stretch of one, and it ended too quickly for me. Although for Amy it was more than plenty! Incredible to think people spent their lives down there as they got bombed by the Americans. (pics: tour guide entering one of the Cu Chi tunnels, guide in front of me in the tunnel, myself in the tunnel, Amy happy to be leaving the claustrophobic tunnels)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbKThFPXYUwmT6biWt4e4wREg4zR72jccgOH2n5Pj8hlstgwkajPz8Ps_55daLXHpcjDH-zrACWdgsYXuPkJesSiuy4wgvMcRJxBf9mNHI9Jj8G9P7uZibEn_M6JHEOgEwABXr_g7x3L5/s1600-h/DSC00480.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510922314728386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbKThFPXYUwmT6biWt4e4wREg4zR72jccgOH2n5Pj8hlstgwkajPz8Ps_55daLXHpcjDH-zrACWdgsYXuPkJesSiuy4wgvMcRJxBf9mNHI9Jj8G9P7uZibEn_M6JHEOgEwABXr_g7x3L5/s320/DSC00480.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8BaWyFGIti7rdeuRPjkmUc0FYCB7vW7HZeC9xn2YOD1KHOJ-jUyHEYEGfwPwqQzfj9JL2I5BGazdCnAmA9iQN3aLoERLbA0LcXJ8nxr9BaIfUNtnmqhCSRn5aqJof3FW2xf0j1p3eOGJ/s1600-h/DSC00482.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510938130899362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8BaWyFGIti7rdeuRPjkmUc0FYCB7vW7HZeC9xn2YOD1KHOJ-jUyHEYEGfwPwqQzfj9JL2I5BGazdCnAmA9iQN3aLoERLbA0LcXJ8nxr9BaIfUNtnmqhCSRn5aqJof3FW2xf0j1p3eOGJ/s320/DSC00482.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDntRn1JM3sOySy47nGwuuPSnVpilm-87COtOWU3u9JHreQLyDwY7_KICMF6Yon9DUz3hjKyDssCvIhXTAXf0xdA2_uSzLP-z2-GbuuDqljtSV6DN87CGLK-NN-1GIO1wdz-fje_LOhmij/s1600-h/DSC00484.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510244695229154" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDntRn1JM3sOySy47nGwuuPSnVpilm-87COtOWU3u9JHreQLyDwY7_KICMF6Yon9DUz3hjKyDssCvIhXTAXf0xdA2_uSzLP-z2-GbuuDqljtSV6DN87CGLK-NN-1GIO1wdz-fje_LOhmij/s320/DSC00484.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmU-xi8faWAHprOti675hw0UJDwKIW2J1_n2ry4OFQ_yUTOj0XzOo3V3JJ_GKoc8QbX9ysyGhU6FbJ5oOFlxYbJm8nPfHZEw4C_IIgGtP2pPfHZxMvBr3Z3qwkhufm8fqStugkGZvTcCE/s1600-h/DSC00486.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510240687213570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmU-xi8faWAHprOti675hw0UJDwKIW2J1_n2ry4OFQ_yUTOj0XzOo3V3JJ_GKoc8QbX9ysyGhU6FbJ5oOFlxYbJm8nPfHZEw4C_IIgGtP2pPfHZxMvBr3Z3qwkhufm8fqStugkGZvTcCE/s320/DSC00486.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The tour started off with an Anti-American troops propaganda video. They then showed us all the neat ways they used the tunnels, the secret doors, the ways they used to fight American troops despite not having major equipment, and a captured American tank. The tactics and tunnels are so incredible because it all worked! They won! (pics: our tour guide telling us about the Cu Chi tunnels, one of the tunnel entrances we were allowed to test out, Amy/myself on a captured US tank)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SdLjrkcJGDxtCO50aVTDHJDVPA_66ualvw-Mm7vbWILQz7rd3_EmYCjYkRv8iE6cu2XQ4SUA33QNyCvtgm-tH0LRJKfhvqolS5nCQ4FVJd_ME3NvTU1yD_nL6MyVSTjSo3ozkqqfdphe/s1600-h/DSC00447.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283511250848543826" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SdLjrkcJGDxtCO50aVTDHJDVPA_66ualvw-Mm7vbWILQz7rd3_EmYCjYkRv8iE6cu2XQ4SUA33QNyCvtgm-tH0LRJKfhvqolS5nCQ4FVJd_ME3NvTU1yD_nL6MyVSTjSo3ozkqqfdphe/s320/DSC00447.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3oDS3x3_V7aZ1dAC0pnQcdWmPLeO-Rqr0VjMviiAL2OafwjLzlsiU6TKR9tMZdyU6M62fz2KjV01yYynXjm2IfweVvBG4xpTlqYQeqo1aht_rXS8Vp_QHX-cl78Q8rSei2hSdOlCtHED/s1600-h/DSC00455.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510933564097618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3oDS3x3_V7aZ1dAC0pnQcdWmPLeO-Rqr0VjMviiAL2OafwjLzlsiU6TKR9tMZdyU6M62fz2KjV01yYynXjm2IfweVvBG4xpTlqYQeqo1aht_rXS8Vp_QHX-cl78Q8rSei2hSdOlCtHED/s320/DSC00455.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvUxhwPZjxR0uM9AjeiuTDowujThV-P33YGnatoe6f9YqfTuTKBr7a83loIq_dKx7nzT6aZaPGAdUFa-DqXnaN9ZJ1i8J_IIfOV66d_agtpOggorlOuqDmeqAUqVh8K1NMf21vZzmfheL/s1600-h/DSC00460.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510930821222562" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvUxhwPZjxR0uM9AjeiuTDowujThV-P33YGnatoe6f9YqfTuTKBr7a83loIq_dKx7nzT6aZaPGAdUFa-DqXnaN9ZJ1i8J_IIfOV66d_agtpOggorlOuqDmeqAUqVh8K1NMf21vZzmfheL/s320/DSC00460.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A neat part was a shooting range they had. I read that you can shoot whatever gun you want, at 15,000 Dong per bullet. Well I was not told that it was a minimum of 10 bullets. I did not have that much dong to do that. I took that as a sign that I shouldn’t be shooting an AK-47 for fun. (pic: pay to shoot)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMybwV32TUxPB2x8nlAXO_vj_P_u-eEnUPTaHQm1bJSQj_i_qmdGO0twWlHuU2M7enC52CLQhLDODgSSlhIJacw2YiA-JgID5LfZuMXIU_AbSOzG-Hu5PVRi8ouHyujHPayvNW8cyvMuyI/s1600-h/DSC00469.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510923219962802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMybwV32TUxPB2x8nlAXO_vj_P_u-eEnUPTaHQm1bJSQj_i_qmdGO0twWlHuU2M7enC52CLQhLDODgSSlhIJacw2YiA-JgID5LfZuMXIU_AbSOzG-Hu5PVRi8ouHyujHPayvNW8cyvMuyI/s320/DSC00469.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Traffic was bad on the way back, but nothing close to what I got used to in Dhaka.<br /><br />We headed back to the market, and Amy bought some things. I considered buying some artwork, but decided against it, one because I didn’t have enough money. I told myself if I saw an HSBC ATM, it’d be a sign, and I should buy something. I walked 3 blocks past the market looking for that sign, but it didn’t appear. So I didn’t buy. (pic: night market in Ho Chi Minh City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t9YT2XUp9PhCXobqS6aGenRkl2ftx7uAqM6dS8y-0rUUvUnj61ovBYDS9pbnjLwBGgws3gH8kbMKxnWUPO23V0Rx_FI-0mxxRaQ-MqNhzknAhYtlSR50q4BPe8F0hWaXjAaZHtt8AwDH/s1600-h/DSC00494.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510240271993554" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t9YT2XUp9PhCXobqS6aGenRkl2ftx7uAqM6dS8y-0rUUvUnj61ovBYDS9pbnjLwBGgws3gH8kbMKxnWUPO23V0Rx_FI-0mxxRaQ-MqNhzknAhYtlSR50q4BPe8F0hWaXjAaZHtt8AwDH/s320/DSC00494.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We shared dinner with Rachel again tonight. It was great to meet up with a friendly face midway through our trip. She gave us lots of advice on what to do in Cambodia and southern Thailand as well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">57th-7th on bus to Siem Reap 10/7</span><br /><br />We woke up to leave; our hotel’s front door was closed. Had to have them open it for us. Then the place we booked our tickets was closed too! I started getting nervous. What if we missed our bus? We banged on the door until Worker McSleeps-a-lot woke up inside. He opened it and called the bus company to tell them we were here. They walked over and took us to the bus pickup. Only one bus a day goes to Siem Reap, and I was really worried we would miss it.<br /><br />The service was incredible. This was Amy’s favorite bus. Amy had been nervous about being in Cambodia, and the bus’s comfort helped ease her worries. We passed through endless rural areas in the Mekong Delta. (pics: a man I saw rowing a boat with his feet saw me as well and waved back, Amy hugging her favorite bus company)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-96UVWtTfowzLhaExqFO0ezMKPZRpIa78qb-x-yaga_aNRLYbFVM7TqkOQmesFjgU3Un5daSd4R0Uetpq8pTwgNhVvt2V7T8s225-L8oLce499cOlUyORIV_QWjdBa2HOIFxXzC-nrMA/s1600-h/DSC00499.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510237829300594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-96UVWtTfowzLhaExqFO0ezMKPZRpIa78qb-x-yaga_aNRLYbFVM7TqkOQmesFjgU3Un5daSd4R0Uetpq8pTwgNhVvt2V7T8s225-L8oLce499cOlUyORIV_QWjdBa2HOIFxXzC-nrMA/s320/DSC00499.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLBk4UreK1sNApzj8NNNejJt40BBUf0tvmmZ1Y8jQY7Xae0iMebBohmzyYOCiBodkeL25epJVFzyys9Y3tNNkXRl-rhLSQbZMfnu4N38_Yid3D6F-EPhZbAo8U8kWXChA3yXebyynPiEM/s1600-h/DSC00518.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510031612402338" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLBk4UreK1sNApzj8NNNejJt40BBUf0tvmmZ1Y8jQY7Xae0iMebBohmzyYOCiBodkeL25epJVFzyys9Y3tNNkXRl-rhLSQbZMfnu4N38_Yid3D6F-EPhZbAo8U8kWXChA3yXebyynPiEM/s320/DSC00518.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We crossed the Mekong by ferry, and I got out to look around. Reminded me of all my ferry crossings in BD. (pics: people crossing the Mekong by ferry, all the vehicles packed onto the ferry)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERv2NinmHRxu0SWrzDsgO_kjwimXFB5ObEm9Hbwrm67GANjoWGFb-yAgZWqVFgGnsNN4RgCJNVcmMGxnU9vE7MDvjmcNS69baLBNny6MZg2Wb_eOp_oMLvFlZOOW49D3ylkD62sQaR5qW/s1600-h/DSC00509.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510037522377938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERv2NinmHRxu0SWrzDsgO_kjwimXFB5ObEm9Hbwrm67GANjoWGFb-yAgZWqVFgGnsNN4RgCJNVcmMGxnU9vE7MDvjmcNS69baLBNny6MZg2Wb_eOp_oMLvFlZOOW49D3ylkD62sQaR5qW/s320/DSC00509.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8KZqqrxqPuX5nnDiwahPUirn4YGON7XTMM3vFZ1LKXv8Nn2ypMTD88Jy-WnTipMl-QvBPpiLCyeCcPo1T6aa6c0bp3rmHkOC4C8phQQehvaXT6eBfaY4JhV_ZSatFdJK7Pt1lb5nHI7z/s1600-h/DSC00510.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510034630946546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8KZqqrxqPuX5nnDiwahPUirn4YGON7XTMM3vFZ1LKXv8Nn2ypMTD88Jy-WnTipMl-QvBPpiLCyeCcPo1T6aa6c0bp3rmHkOC4C8phQQehvaXT6eBfaY4JhV_ZSatFdJK7Pt1lb5nHI7z/s320/DSC00510.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We stopped over for a few minutes in Phnom Penh to drop off and and pick up passengers, and it looked really nice from the streets we saw. Reminded us of Vientiane. I did notice that the city seems to be growing very quick. Saw new skyscrapers going up, and lots of suburban sprawl. (pics: new skyscraper going up in Phnom Penh, suburban sprawl outside the city)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiIJOG2Jb0K0aKTpcxzygKOKaRNlG_k2xPwTc0RHMS-_Mz1R40Xf6LBQN-XfMaO2QWN7sv-qQn19gMt_jlz1f0AgHa1bAxMk7538dFBRxmqSdMve8mfDT8XLmfRJHNID2LLuhyz_jNpE6/s1600-h/DSC00521.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283510022294754386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiIJOG2Jb0K0aKTpcxzygKOKaRNlG_k2xPwTc0RHMS-_Mz1R40Xf6LBQN-XfMaO2QWN7sv-qQn19gMt_jlz1f0AgHa1bAxMk7538dFBRxmqSdMve8mfDT8XLmfRJHNID2LLuhyz_jNpE6/s320/DSC00521.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCM4-3P5cp6mBix1kcjyNdqyI_Zx4N3xzgGxD4SCNGZjtWa1KDhdFdDre9lcSZmeuKeRjNNKSu-bnmqb43R2sPRp9Smruox9FcjIK-I99BlQECoWTqQJA6yhbrwVoCGBnostx7mMQkOr_/s1600-h/DSC00525.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283509601593659970" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCM4-3P5cp6mBix1kcjyNdqyI_Zx4N3xzgGxD4SCNGZjtWa1KDhdFdDre9lcSZmeuKeRjNNKSu-bnmqb43R2sPRp9Smruox9FcjIK-I99BlQECoWTqQJA6yhbrwVoCGBnostx7mMQkOr_/s320/DSC00525.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Another stop was for food on the way to Siem Reap. There we got the first taste of Cambodian children selling us stuff. They surrounded us and showed us all the things we could buy from them. I bought some hard boiled eggs and mango. One delicacy I noticed they had were cooked tarantulas. I couldn't stop looking at them. A woman selling them took out a live one to show me…and it bit her!! She said simply, “Ow. It bit me” and threw it back in the bucket…no thanks. (pic: tarantulas for a snack)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqHrYKQ44Eu2me4ElspnK3gDFP_12NjuON9uRnHLzl3gmjrBVPiGU4ORkCiisGkEQFERiMdjqwmomtzNMLhgG10kS2ibNEKEgKSzAFDM0sDHBuKsWH5XTPuyumkxS7JXG24GCN-JZA1Db/s1600-h/DSC00529.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283509603002390850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqHrYKQ44Eu2me4ElspnK3gDFP_12NjuON9uRnHLzl3gmjrBVPiGU4ORkCiisGkEQFERiMdjqwmomtzNMLhgG10kS2ibNEKEgKSzAFDM0sDHBuKsWH5XTPuyumkxS7JXG24GCN-JZA1Db/s320/DSC00529.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Houses in rural Cambodia are all on stilts. They each have an ornamented roof center line. It has the year it was built printed on it. I was amazed to see the consistency of it all. It was neat that even with little money, evident by the choices of materials for the roof and walls, they still invest enough to ornament this part of their homes. (pics: Cambodian rural houses built on stilts, each home had an ornamented roof center line)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5a4MvDt9Ibrl91mHced8MQwU6OmDeMn8pcAaHzLVbop9CzCT7Wg9phwSC5uMQkpsRlb6AemYFLylpCQDMf8_Riyivi0vrZdVoDM0diCR1ffBwXBiQFt5NMNzcxxvWb4TNvjrD7xHDqiOX/s1600-h/DSC00531.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283509598474343186" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5a4MvDt9Ibrl91mHced8MQwU6OmDeMn8pcAaHzLVbop9CzCT7Wg9phwSC5uMQkpsRlb6AemYFLylpCQDMf8_Riyivi0vrZdVoDM0diCR1ffBwXBiQFt5NMNzcxxvWb4TNvjrD7xHDqiOX/s320/DSC00531.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqH6tG1Vm1qSErwAPu_N9-V89elQ70sSWU9rXzW5i80bpU3xt0U7KMkG1uIvRR8y2cUl_c7pOibwFZ1Gku7hkjfS3BBO-lunWZ-Io17jspowhjwPztSqGtMf-1l9u1Mf0BeoAjiniJfzw/s1600-h/DSC00538.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283509593650395266" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqH6tG1Vm1qSErwAPu_N9-V89elQ70sSWU9rXzW5i80bpU3xt0U7KMkG1uIvRR8y2cUl_c7pOibwFZ1Gku7hkjfS3BBO-lunWZ-Io17jspowhjwPztSqGtMf-1l9u1Mf0BeoAjiniJfzw/s320/DSC00538.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The land we passed through was incredibly flat and had very few trees. It made it seem much flatter than Bangladesh. (pic: flat plains of Cambodia at sunset)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyL4a3vL9_W8rw7BUTGy6E-ptIfv6o11ljsGp-DnPEmzb-qjlKurAw9oqSERvTtAsDOclghFHILoGV6TUYjSLiQMmLRil1FxD2nchyfEPhB_X3gkSBqTJWwGoVCmNw6Tvvn_8IjUyYMy0W/s1600-h/DSC00540.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283509590787438722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyL4a3vL9_W8rw7BUTGy6E-ptIfv6o11ljsGp-DnPEmzb-qjlKurAw9oqSERvTtAsDOclghFHILoGV6TUYjSLiQMmLRil1FxD2nchyfEPhB_X3gkSBqTJWwGoVCmNw6Tvvn_8IjUyYMy0W/s320/DSC00540.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We liked the bus service so much that when we arrived in Siem Reap we booked all our Cambodian needs through their office. We arrived after 12 hours, and booked a bus to Bangkok. They also recommended a hotel which we went with too. Lastly the guy they gave us to take us to the hotel offered to give us a tour tomorrow, and decided to go with him as well.<br /><br />In Cambodia, things are more expensive than surrounding countries. This is mainly because they only want US dollars. Meaning the minimum anything could cost was one dollar because they don’t have the nickels and dimes to go along with the bills. If you’re lucky you can get two or three for $1.<br /><br />I realized that chapter 9 is missing from my book A Brief History of Time…how can I understand the universe??? Maybe it really is there though, but since I’m observing it, its not…. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-20515536690476875282008-12-15T02:19:00.019+06:002008-12-20T21:28:48.408+06:00Week 56: Arrive at the border on time and ensure you are still driving on the correct side of the road (but I departed Bangladesh by plane!)<strong>56th-1st from Jaipur to Kolkata to Bangladesh 9/24</strong><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />The autorickshaw I had arranged to pick me up didn’t show. I waited for him for about 10 minutes after he was supposed to be there, and then went looking for another. Found one quickly and they agreed to go to the airport, same price. While waiting, I texted the bus company in Kolkata that I was leaving Jaipur and would be there by 1 PM, just in case. (pic: sun rising as I headed to the Jaipur airport)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcL7nhlFPfmzrRnosqo-WrMl4S00nkpONPuY5BSfLTHOhcFFlzzadUn79dMvzcRq9xeiVVwQgh6HlPfE0QLivz3pi4fjkd8CSYk3mgsUUhinJBcDBoXg7zcW5vM9tmdeySyah1L3xDd36s/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28435%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744004730495298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcL7nhlFPfmzrRnosqo-WrMl4S00nkpONPuY5BSfLTHOhcFFlzzadUn79dMvzcRq9xeiVVwQgh6HlPfE0QLivz3pi4fjkd8CSYk3mgsUUhinJBcDBoXg7zcW5vM9tmdeySyah1L3xDd36s/s320/DSC10000+%28435%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Although I was mad at them for scrapping my original flight and throwing me into this mess, I have to admit that Indigo has nice planes and friendly staff.<br /><br />After landing, and getting my bag, I got a taxi to headed back into town. There was an incredible jam on the way, and I feared of missing my bus. To make it worse, my driver decided to stop for tea when we were a kilometer from the bus stand. I was so irritated; at least he offered me a cigarette…but I don’t smoke. I was excited to see all the signs for Durga Puja, the largest Hindu festival in Bengal, up around town. It’s coming up soon. (pic: sign in Kolkata during Durga Puja with the goddess' image)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKAK8__07fiynRv_3nLHlNXE7TDDPxC32KzYGx2-xGgE-vYutUkIhZVwcX9emQpmr07-N7ZLsNe0GNkHx_o6ujAYO8MsQYSrSXTkxjVhiVZYlOFUwqSW6m-Dxw1oaXqKj9T3vIQ-g293D/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28444%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744003101572082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKAK8__07fiynRv_3nLHlNXE7TDDPxC32KzYGx2-xGgE-vYutUkIhZVwcX9emQpmr07-N7ZLsNe0GNkHx_o6ujAYO8MsQYSrSXTkxjVhiVZYlOFUwqSW6m-Dxw1oaXqKj9T3vIQ-g293D/s320/DSC10000+%28444%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The bus company had understood the call from yesterday and even got the text this morning. They told me not to worry, that I had a seat on the 1 PM bus. I went and grabbed snacks for the ride.<br /><br />On the bus I was sitting next to a little kid, quite a brat. There wasn’t really much of a jam leaving the city. But disaster struck 2 hours outside of the city. There were people rioting in the highway, and our bus stood still for 40 minutes. People started worrying we wouldn’t make the border crossing in time. Of course I was fretting as well. The rioters were angry about load shedding happening too often in their area.<br /><br />We didn’t make it to the border in time. We arrived just after 6 PM and it closes at 6 PM. They hurried us all to the customs gate, through immigration, but customs wouldn’t open for us. We would have to spend the night in India. It was a bit more traumatic for me. Because I am a foreigner, they kept me in immigration to get “interviewed”. I worried they would let the rest of my bus through and not me if the “interviewer” didn’t show up. A guy from the bus company was in the room with me, and he told me not to worry. I trusted him. After sitting there for a half hour, the rest of the passengers consented that they wouldn’t be leaving tonight. It was frustrating for us all.<br />We sat in the bus company’s office for awhile, complaining, and then the bus took us all a few kilometers back down the road to a hotel for the night. Food and lodging all paid for by the company. During this period I befriended a young guy from Bangladesh. He was a cricket player for the under-19 team named Pana. It was really cool to meet a national level player. He showed me his passport full of foreign stamps from his team’s tours. I smiled at the fact that his occupation simply says “Player”. (pic: Pana's passport with his profession as "PLAYER.")<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaAxk6mu_ktE1tRjTfV0d0GJ04gEAP9bQ7Av1ktCY07TtFl24BVmAu8fJLmrPpM-Fzo9YJhBjaEGBVNuuhoy0GVnLbuMk8MriTd5LVUdFNQw-6SL-fs1v9-wpN9s3JXvYnzhJ18JsoLeha/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28447%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279743753565822962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaAxk6mu_ktE1tRjTfV0d0GJ04gEAP9bQ7Av1ktCY07TtFl24BVmAu8fJLmrPpM-Fzo9YJhBjaEGBVNuuhoy0GVnLbuMk8MriTd5LVUdFNQw-6SL-fs1v9-wpN9s3JXvYnzhJ18JsoLeha/s320/DSC10000+%28447%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He and I roomed together in the hotel. We watched some TV and showered. Dinner was served late and all the bus passengers quickly ate up some rice, vegetables, and egg curry.<br /><br />Obviously I was super frustrated. Instead of having 3 full days in Bangladesh, I would now essentially have 2, with a lot to get done. Annoyed on how it all played out. I was glad though that Pana was there, it helped so much to have a friend.<br /><br />Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but everyone in south Asia compliments or comments on me being left handed.<br /><br /><strong>56th-2nd in Dhaka 9/25<br /></strong><br />We woke up early at the hotel, still in India. I should be home already, and its frustrating to think about that. The bus was slow to leave, so we didn’t arrive at the time we wanted to when it opened at 6 AM. We didn’t arrive at the border until 6:45, and already it was pretty busy. (pics: my other busmates waiting for the bus to take us to the borer, the bus finally coming out of the parking lot in a small town in India near the border with Bangladesh)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXsRcxJ-mVkIrMkwfA-cgab546E99Od7vmhyphenhyphenc3jBnav0JRtIUMfdYtDmtBA6goXsIC_twApxlDVbuEOX4K3fUlrhaJuCKnt3fPy5LYTLq3vEEeluBnkOoojBpteq3AzGJUz-IK2e4jqrO/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28451%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279743744612533522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXsRcxJ-mVkIrMkwfA-cgab546E99Od7vmhyphenhyphenc3jBnav0JRtIUMfdYtDmtBA6goXsIC_twApxlDVbuEOX4K3fUlrhaJuCKnt3fPy5LYTLq3vEEeluBnkOoojBpteq3AzGJUz-IK2e4jqrO/s320/DSC10000+%28451%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwX5cBT3CA96aQWRMyIm89id4nETQr0ATSIAPMK6lDUqAXqoGNWNItAqDJAzQ4CIbFV73clSRjPI69Mk9bGxD4Lta8PjgDsRWGPN90OpLSH1jg8J62Ijwfgno65dUULbyCCPXWSJ8_ikHk/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28450%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279743748148173826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwX5cBT3CA96aQWRMyIm89id4nETQr0ATSIAPMK6lDUqAXqoGNWNItAqDJAzQ4CIbFV73clSRjPI69Mk9bGxD4Lta8PjgDsRWGPN90OpLSH1jg8J62Ijwfgno65dUULbyCCPXWSJ8_ikHk/s320/DSC10000+%28450%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Again I was sat down to be ‘interviewed” and this made my whole bus have to wait outside customs until I was done. No one seemed angry at me. The border itself was pure craziness. People running everywhere, lines every which way. Long waits. In between the two borders lots of people stood waiting to cross. Porters tried to carry your things and demand tips. The Indian and the Bangladeshi sides were equally confusing. Except the Indian side had most things in one building. For Bangladesh you had to keep crossing back and forth across the road to hit each place. But I got stamped out fine, bought the onward ticket for the bus, and we were on our way again.<br /><br />The ride back was uneventful. There wasn’t even a line at the Padma River to cross. We got on quickly and easily. As we neared Dhaka, our bus was going to go up and around through Uttara, so I got off to take a more direct city bus in. Pana came with me as he lives nearby in Mohammedpur. (pics: two launches hit while crossing the Padma River, the Padma River filled with small sailboats)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZQ6mznIgat_bk8Bi-noiiE5efIwIzDH4Tcmc9kmtddipcldGg5S6nHvMGZ1W-hqgLS709_5vGJcYQBIVc-n-iCK3Uj9qvi-Wb0BcjAqK-i71DaOApLJLFT_iIaUvqTLLdt0yYLCovupI/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28460%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279743738068416066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZQ6mznIgat_bk8Bi-noiiE5efIwIzDH4Tcmc9kmtddipcldGg5S6nHvMGZ1W-hqgLS709_5vGJcYQBIVc-n-iCK3Uj9qvi-Wb0BcjAqK-i71DaOApLJLFT_iIaUvqTLLdt0yYLCovupI/s320/DSC10000+%28460%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAnGHVRNdi6iAFnSVivdrsLzbztSFkPPX7pyLrjPBcWh3t8vZba9Q2cRHCqQfbfOCkDjRzBFESBk6RLDZaXGudLtVIBV0Cm7VfL-fm1MKZfDFUGaj3QQMzZqTzWX9bUIhuLlv6CaWJ280/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28457%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279743735339608674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAnGHVRNdi6iAFnSVivdrsLzbztSFkPPX7pyLrjPBcWh3t8vZba9Q2cRHCqQfbfOCkDjRzBFESBk6RLDZaXGudLtVIBV0Cm7VfL-fm1MKZfDFUGaj3QQMzZqTzWX9bUIhuLlv6CaWJ280/s320/DSC10000+%28457%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After picking up my laptop from Diya’s and having Iftar there, I went home and quickly threw my stuff down and dropped in to see the guys downstairs about the furniture. Apparently Mehedi had skipped town and would not be buying my things. I was annoyed. But Mansur said he would buy it all, or a friend would, and not to worry. Of course I would, but I had no other choice but to go with it. I asked if they had all the money, and he said he did, all ready to go. I told him I’d be spending the night in Gulshan, and I’d be back at noon tomorrow.<br /><br />I then headed across town to Naira’s. She had invited me over for dinner with her father. Her mom was out of town. We chatted, had dinner with her dad and many other people who were over to eat that night, including her brother and his friends. Dinner was great as always, and everyone was talking the entire time. After dinner, her cousin and cousin’s husband, Naira, and I went to the Westin. This was actually my first time going there to hang out, now in my last few nights of Dhaka. We met some people there, two of which I knew from the wedding last December. We had cake and hung out talking for over an hour.<br /><br /><strong>56th-3rd in Dhaka 9/26</strong><br /><br />I ate breakfast at Naira’s. I had said goodbye the night before because I knew I had to leave early. I talked to one of her other cousins who stays there before I left.<br /><br />I went to grab the final _FC pictures I needed of RFC, KFC, and FFC, and then headed to the Best Air office to confirm my luggage allowance for the flight. I had to go to the head office, and finding it was a bit hard. There, the woman at the booking desk told me not to worry, everyone in the company knows students can take an extra 10kg. I felt content.<br /><br />I went home and told Mansur I was back to sell my stuff. He came up along with the guy he said would buy most of my things, his name was Mahib. Turns out, Mansur would only be buying my fridge, and Mahib was buying everything else. They asked for the price again, and I tallied it up at Tk15,000. Then they started bargaining, which had not happened yet, but I was afraid would come. He said he would buy for Tk10,000, and he wouldn’t budge when I said my lowest price was Tk12000. He knew I had no other choice, so I finally consented because some money is better than none. We settled on what was going to be included, and I showed them a pile of stuff they could take for free. I said I only wanted to keep the kitchen stuff to give to my boua.<br />They went to get the money and I started taking apart my bed. Mansur and him came back and Mansur started begging me to give him a lower price on the fridge. He said he didn’t have enough money and I asked what happened to the plenty of funds he had last night. Apparently not. I wouldn’t budge. I knew the landlady would buy it if he didn’t take it. He knew that too. He ended up giving only 3% less than what was agreed upon.<br /><br />So we started packing up, no issues arising. I was helping them bring things downstairs. Then Mahib asked about my speakers. I had asked him earlier if he wanted them, and he said he didn’t so I did not include them in the price. However, apparently he didn’t recall this interaction and insisted the speakers were part of the deal and that he was taking them. I said no way unless he gave an extra Tk 1500, they were expensive. He threatened that if I didn’t give them to him included in the price, he wouldn’t take anything at all and asked for his Tk10,000 back.<br />I was shocked and appalled. I couldn’t believe he was really doing this. I said again that we had not said the speakers were part of it, and Mahib just rebutted asking me to give him his money back. I looked at all the other guys who were there as well, four in all, one being Mansur’s roommate and one being the guy’s brother. No one looked to be on my side. If anything they just shrugged. I was upset. I felt I was getting ganged up on, cheated, in the most unfair of situations. I didn’t’ know what to do. Where to turn.<br />Then I broke down. I couldn’t help it. All the emotions of my last days here, having to say goodbye, the stress, and now this, it just added up and all started coming out. I started crying and couldn’t stop. It was then they realized they’d gone too far. I was telling them how I wasn’t trying to cheat anyone, wasn’t trying to screw them, just trying to sell the things. I had already cut the price two thirds, feeling I’d done what they wanted. Then things took a turn. Realizing what they’d done, and feeling bad about it, they started hugging me. They tried comforting me and telling me it was all right, just a misunderstanding. Slowly I calmed down. I apologized for opening up all of a sudden, but they apologized as well for going too far in the whole situation.<br />That whole mess over, we went back to bringing all the furniture downstairs. They apologized again and again, and didn’t raise any more issues.<br />One of my friends told me later that it is not uncommon for Bangladeshis to see how far they can push someone in a business transaction. Other Bangladeshis know how to handle this technique, and will rebut appropriately, until an agreement is reached. But in this case, I wasn’t prepared, and they weren’t prepared for my response. My friend said that when they saw me display emotion in the transaction, something they wouldn’t have expected, they knew to back down. In a way my friend said, it’s all a façade of being tough, and they don’t really mean it full and through. (pics: my room getting packed up, Mansur/Mahib and the others moving things out of my room, Mahib/Mansur helping to take apart my bed)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfGUoSgy4NyF28OxHLfdEZ8y3Fz2OSdqExcqrqmhkWvVqTqqPpkhbN_RGLAFxy5vPiygNhPzZ-PIzHNvFWOf5qvM9E-pr4n3A-P3o49ZHNhoc3E8tzg2BgoIDKk9df8wapGVMRr1W-ZYx/s1600-h/DSC09579+%283%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744264164726226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfGUoSgy4NyF28OxHLfdEZ8y3Fz2OSdqExcqrqmhkWvVqTqqPpkhbN_RGLAFxy5vPiygNhPzZ-PIzHNvFWOf5qvM9E-pr4n3A-P3o49ZHNhoc3E8tzg2BgoIDKk9df8wapGVMRr1W-ZYx/s320/DSC09579+%283%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfFMb6EbfDY39V7bKYTE4ZQXszQIpmcumHy_9yvuIeVzptDO5zUHTZC2sXAsgFXzG0RD4w88nHl1hytW8OHj2o1Uqi97qWR3zd9paXE1N_pb1sGB78otMXDIT08hGBn9TTVmhCkQvgYzR/s1600-h/DSC09579+%282%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744263010071666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfFMb6EbfDY39V7bKYTE4ZQXszQIpmcumHy_9yvuIeVzptDO5zUHTZC2sXAsgFXzG0RD4w88nHl1hytW8OHj2o1Uqi97qWR3zd9paXE1N_pb1sGB78otMXDIT08hGBn9TTVmhCkQvgYzR/s320/DSC09579+%282%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTAoAMf11wvFA6CKhEwhCzp0zPvkji4tH_-P5NISSifKbNk6r4Ni_j6lIGaSjZx6zssv4obFVWVyWlr_XI5I1073_PYYEUnK7Zwzsi3lyAiqzr0AxPXJCfCOY0rJ3PqeAL0NZz8C2hNxdf/s1600-h/DSC09579.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744273683179810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTAoAMf11wvFA6CKhEwhCzp0zPvkji4tH_-P5NISSifKbNk6r4Ni_j6lIGaSjZx6zssv4obFVWVyWlr_XI5I1073_PYYEUnK7Zwzsi3lyAiqzr0AxPXJCfCOY0rJ3PqeAL0NZz8C2hNxdf/s320/DSC09579.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After they’d left and my room was empty, Ragini came by. I was still packing some things. She brought fuchka and some other snacks from a place that was actually open during Ramadan, and we shared those and told each other stories of our travels in India.<br /><br />Tonight for Iftar I was meeting up with Karen and Erin at Nando’s. The Iftar fare was decent. I shouldn’t have ordered the medium flavor and just gone with mild. I was in no mood for super spicy right now. But Nando’s did a good Iftar spread, however I’ll still say Pizza Hut is the best Iftar offer in Dhaka. We talked about where I’d been, and touched on the various things we’ve all been up to.<br />I rushed home in the now pouring rain. I got soaked. From head to toe. My boua was supposed to come by tonight to wash clothes, as I had worked out with her. But she didn’t. With the rain and the flooded streets, which even I had a hard time going through, I knew she wasn’t showing up. So it was time to wash my clothes myself. I grabbed the bucket and the clothes I knew would take the longest to dry and set to work. I assumed she would come tomorrow morning, as by then the rain would’ve hopefully stopped and dried. If not, I’d be washing the quicker drying stuff myself again tomorrow morning.<br /><br />I spent the rest of the night packing and looking online. Hadn’t really had a time to go on since getting back from India. I worked on my Fulbright Final Report trying to get it done and out of the way before I leave Bangladesh. My room is now empty except for a mattress I asked to keep for my last two nights. The guy who bought it would come by to get it on my last morning. As well, I had retaken the fan from the guys downstairs before the all went back for Eid. They told me to just leave it with the landlady when I moved out.<br /><br /><strong>56th-4th in Dhaka 9/27<br /></strong><br />Today is my last full day in Bangladesh. I leave tomorrow morning. It feels a bit odd. Especially the array of activities I plan to do. It was really a typical day of errands for me. It could’ve been any other day during my stay.<br /><br />In the morning my boua came and washed the rest of my clothes. She then took everything I had saved for her. The kitchen stuff, odds and ends I wasn’t taking home, including shoes, shirts, pants, etc. Meanwhile I packed little by little. She left with a big bag of stuff, and good sized thank you tip for her time working for me, as well as a photo I printed out of the two of us that Emily had take on her visit. (pic: my boua with all the odds and ends I gave her)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcZUqv4uWr-zqHZ3MOLMtMXiRlD_1Ez_Yiqf6DT5IwQW639Sn_2ZY9ua5ohhWSr_w3N5QXx7J3zWpicVWjkPfrMC08TLjOstQfEKOTW99KM7L1Lmxxs5xxLZMyiwJxGW-BLxFZnWvyyoR/s1600-h/DSC09580.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744019859723458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcZUqv4uWr-zqHZ3MOLMtMXiRlD_1Ez_Yiqf6DT5IwQW639Sn_2ZY9ua5ohhWSr_w3N5QXx7J3zWpicVWjkPfrMC08TLjOstQfEKOTW99KM7L1Lmxxs5xxLZMyiwJxGW-BLxFZnWvyyoR/s320/DSC09580.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had breakfast at a hotel one last time. It was Ramadan and so I felt a bit scandalous, but lots of others were there too. I dropped off my mini backpack to a tailor and asked them if they could fix the few holes and tears which had developed through India. They didn’t want to, but I begged and said they cold do it, needed it done by tonight. They obliged.<br /><br />After this I went to BUET to see Dr. Rahman one last time. I was dropping off a copy of the paper that had been published by us, for his records. He also took it to make a formal scan. I thanked him one last time, and was on my way.<br /><br />I had taken the bus there and back and it was fitting that it was really crowded. I was hanging out the door for a bit on the way out, one last time. I got to push through everyone one last time. I even got to sit in an annoying traffic jam one last time.<br /><br />I got a final haircut. Wanted to make sure I felt clean before heading to Southeast Asia. Thus it was nice to get one final complimentary head massage.<br />I really didn’t eat lunch apart for a few biscuits. Wasn't very hungry I guess. I sat at home in my lungi and finished the Fulbright final report. Felt good to submit it. At one point Karen came by, she was buying my speakers from me.<br /><br />In the evening I gave my gifts to the store owner in front of my house and Hamid. I gave Hamid a pack of baseball cards that I had brought from the US. I think at first he was confused about them, and also asked me some questions about baseball. He liked them though, the evidence being that he showed them off to all the customers who came by afterwards. Both of them liked the frame I gave them, including the framed dollar bill. I know they’ll enjoy showing that off. They hung it on the wall immediately, and pointed it out as well to all the customers who came by.<br /><br />At night all my friends came over to say goodbye. I was really glad that Tamzid dropped by as well. He said it was really good to see me one last time. We all sat in my room and talked about nothingness for awhile. They gave me one more gift. I gave Farhan the postcards I had written to mail to everyone, and I gave Ayon all the books for Samantha. When they all left, they each gave me a personal goodbye. It was a bit sad. We all were going to miss each other. (pics: Farhan at my flat on my last night, Auvi/Saquib/Nipu/Annita/Ayon at my house hanging out in my empty flat on my final night in Dhaka)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhciLFtRT7SB-TWp-9f5dULnElEB2xu9_qcXZXSYBxe4doXR4lKlBE40gTChWOSclhuH56DXpseLLDKfjZZPrVNmgiCqjPt3f0hBqIkXj3hEUw9z99nwJCC_j9DKcNynWkstWMDQYAdDF/s1600-h/DSC09580+%284%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744008385134674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhciLFtRT7SB-TWp-9f5dULnElEB2xu9_qcXZXSYBxe4doXR4lKlBE40gTChWOSclhuH56DXpseLLDKfjZZPrVNmgiCqjPt3f0hBqIkXj3hEUw9z99nwJCC_j9DKcNynWkstWMDQYAdDF/s320/DSC09580+%284%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_yBbiLm6oDTt_JH9wo-Dz8YTDZgeEFCKqkaZxSP8gMrFg_KX4l-A95yjt8YNwhgZLerRVb0vUh9inVetbtvpDXEzciz3Nw20VDpNRL0utDkHgFbZ8xgMQ3EQgXVSUkzlIEyZMRKwcm7xY/s1600-h/DSC09580+%282%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744021478036690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_yBbiLm6oDTt_JH9wo-Dz8YTDZgeEFCKqkaZxSP8gMrFg_KX4l-A95yjt8YNwhgZLerRVb0vUh9inVetbtvpDXEzciz3Nw20VDpNRL0utDkHgFbZ8xgMQ3EQgXVSUkzlIEyZMRKwcm7xY/s320/DSC09580+%282%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Just as they were leaving, Toma, who had said she wasn’t able to come by because she was busy showed up. She had gone straight to my house to surprise me, but I had walked the guys to the street. She called and found me in the streets just as I was saying goodbye to my friends. She and I then went by rickshaw to get dinner. Only I ate. I went to my favorite hotel one last time. I shook the hand of the waiter who usually served me and said goodbye. She gave me a gift of three shirts from the Aziz Super market. I hadn’t had the time to go pick them up myself, and she knew I wanted some. I was impressed, all the designs were ones I really liked.<br /><br />Went to bed one last time in Bangladesh.<br /><br /><strong>56th-5th from Dhaka to Bangkok 9/28<br /></strong><br />Last morning. Mahib, the guy taking my mattress came by at 4:45 AM as we had planned. I had to open the gate for him. He came in, and I was exhausted. I plopped down, and he did next to me. Now remember, this is the guy who got me really upset just two days ago. Now he was acting like my best friend. We ended up talking for over one hour this morning. We chatted, even thought it was early, I wasn’t being picked up by Auvi for 3 more hours. The highlight thought was when he told me he is the head of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party student arm at Dhaka College. I asked that they didn’t they have a riot about a month ago that burned a bus. He said “Yeah, it was great!” I inquired if, as the head of the student group, had organized it personally. Yes he had. I asked further how he decides to have a riot, and he told me how a high up in the Bangladesh Nationalist Party calls him in the morning and tells him they want a riot to happen so X and Y get done. In this case, they wanted Khaleda Zia out of jail. So he then texts all his friends, or sees them throughout the day, and they all plan to riot at the gates at 2 PM or whatever. I was so amazed to find out hwo all tha it works! Couldn’t believe I was talking to a guy who starts riots for fun!<br /><br />I dropped off the fan to my landlord but did not ask for my deposit back. Nor did I offer to pay the October rent. I feel we’re all even.<br /><br />Auvi picked me up at home earlier than I thought he would. I would have plenty of time at the airport. When we got there early, we figured why not go get some breakfast. His driver and I got some biscuits and bananas and tea at a tea stall. Auvi was fasting and didn’t eat. But it was good to spend a few more moments with a good friend before I left.<br /><br />When it was time, we drove back across the street to the airport. He brought me to the departures area and helped me bring my bags to the door. I hugged him goodbye and went inside, the last personal contact I had in Bangladesh with a friend. I was sad. I didn’t cry. I guess I was ready for it. I couldn’t believe it was all really happening after spending so much time here. I didn’t have the feeling of just arriving, or that time had flied, just amazed that this point had come.<br /><br />My reflection was disrupted by having to deal with Best Air. It sucked. I ended up paying lots of money at the counter, much more than I anticipated. First, they didn’t “know” I could take extra bags on board, despite what the head office had claimed. I called the head office, and put them on the phone with the counter workers. Luckily it was explained that students can take 10 anextra kg. So that was in the clear. My bags were 12kg over the limit. Not so bad. But then they told me my carry-on was too big. I insisted that I carry it on every flight I go. They forced me to weigh it, and then they put it in the stupid little metal “on board possible space” bin. Was too big for both they claimed. 7kg over the carry-on limit. I was annoyed. They were now forcing me to pay for 24kg! that was a lot of money. I was very unhappy. I guess I could’ve done a lot of rearranging then and there, but didn’t think about that at the time.<br />On the plus side, I felt it was a testament to my Bengali that I’ve learned that I was able to fight about the weight of my bag to the counter person, and explain the situation over the phone to a representative.<br />While waiting for the plane, I felt I saw lots of people who had bags bigger than that one carry-on, and that looked heavier too. I steamed about this all the way to Bangkok.<br /><br />There was free internet at the airport. So for all of Dhaka’s airport’s downsides, this was a major up! My friends texted and called me while I was in the airport. Ayon and Toma both called, and Farhan Nipu, Oyon, and Saquib all texted me.<br /><br />The plane itself to Bangkok was rickety, and a bit scary. In fact I’d never been so nervous on a plane for as long as I can remember.<br />We landed in Bangkok, I was reflecting on my last trip here with Megan in February. Our plane got to the gate…but it didn’t. Apparently there was some issue that it wasn’t physically possible for us to connect to the gate. We sat there for 30 minutes. I thought we’d have to go to another gate. I didn’t understand why this problem would arise, was this their first time ever trying to go to a gate? Well after 30 minute, the plane moved forward about 3 feet, literally, and all of a sudden we were able to connect. Nothing else I could tell changed. Ridiculous.<br /><br />I got my bags and found Amy at the airport. She’d been waiting all day, several hours for me to arrive. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen her. Last time would’ve been at the Knecht Cup, a regatta in Camden, New Jersey, during my junior year of college. It was so nice to see a familiar face again. I was excited for our upcoming 2.5 weeks.<br /><br />We got a taxi from the taxi stand at the airport.. The driver however got lost trying to get where we needed to go. He though we’d said something different. Luckily I sort of knew my way around, and told him again where we needed to go and where I thought it was from where we were. We ended up finding it just fine after that.<br /><br />Amy liked the hostel I had arranged for us to stay at, the Sukhumvit On Nut Guesthouse. It was the same one I had been to with Megan on our first night in Bangkok. The staff is friendly and helpful, it’s not too far from the airport, and really clean. After checking in, we repacked our bags for our journey starting tomorrow. I gave my two big bags to store downstairs. They’d be left under the steps for 2.5 weeks. (pic: Amy in our hostel in Bangkok repacking her bags)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURhFo-L7gSQkBwfkppoKWdj8PNkRg3hSiTpKG3k9ohLs18EiN8X8voEgigrzrOfkVfbsIQ_1igTD2Q37sV5UBl8jGTY20VPzIy2SgB9v0FN9E33kPlO9Ce6nEEJhjKiT6y3_3Crevnk4h/s1600-h/DSC00009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279746288239446722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURhFo-L7gSQkBwfkppoKWdj8PNkRg3hSiTpKG3k9ohLs18EiN8X8voEgigrzrOfkVfbsIQ_1igTD2Q37sV5UBl8jGTY20VPzIy2SgB9v0FN9E33kPlO9Ce6nEEJhjKiT6y3_3Crevnk4h/s320/DSC00009.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Amy and I grabbed our guidebooks and headed out to the night market I’d eaten at with Megan on our first night. We sought out some noodles and ate and planned out our trip as best we could. We knew we’d be doing a lot of this trip off the cuff, but we worked out what we thought things could go like as best we can. It’s a hard trip to plan. We decided to take a train tomorrow morning out northeast, heading to Laos. We are skipping northern Thailand as we aren’t as psyched about that as we are about other places, and we are admittedly crunched for time. We realized we’ll be spending a lot of nights on buses and trains, but we said that we could deal.<br /><br />Amy gave me the things she wasn’t taking on this first leg of the trip, and I put it in my carry-on bag. In there I put my laptop. Brought it downstairs to store for the next 10 days until we come back. The manager asked me if a laptop was inside. I wasn't sure if I should say yes or not. Didn’t want to admit it. He told me if there was he’d keep it locked in my office. So I whispered back “yes.”<br /><br />At night at the hostel I couldn’t fall asleep. I was thinking about the upcoming trip. But sadly also the big payment I had to shell out earlier for my bags.<br /><strong><br />56th-6th in Pak Chong 9/29<br /></strong><br />We were up early at the hostel, and off on the skytrain, then to the subway, then to the train station. There was no issue quickly booking our tickets, but we would have to sit in the Bangkok rail station for the rest of the morning. We went and got breakfast nearby, some rice and curry. I also got a pastry and some fruit for the train ride. (pic: waiting inside the Bangkok train station for a few hours)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQYqTb9TeITEHGgTLDmBv7OGB8NPkhqmhmyFty5iRwu_HalgKfhyphenhyphenJylfAae13uCBBvYl8vJqcY1OGllvYX3WM32ky2ZJSxaFag8hyphenhyphenPxAzKpFEHiWWR9P-QMX901qcu3_F4P_U31ugMq1_/s1600-h/DSC00011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279746292122416722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQYqTb9TeITEHGgTLDmBv7OGB8NPkhqmhmyFty5iRwu_HalgKfhyphenhyphenJylfAae13uCBBvYl8vJqcY1OGllvYX3WM32ky2ZJSxaFag8hyphenhyphenPxAzKpFEHiWWR9P-QMX901qcu3_F4P_U31ugMq1_/s320/DSC00011.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The train was a comfortable ride. We had chosen to stop over at Pak Chong for the day because there was no way we could reach the Thailand/Laos border today. And we figured why not take a night train this evening to get there the next morning and spend this day somewhere outside of Bangkok. So Pak Chong, 3-4 hours outside of Bangkok seemed perfect. We might even go to the national park there, Thailand’s first.<br />When we arrived, it was quickly evident how much of a small town it was. Streets seemed dead. We went and got lunch at a small restaurant near the station, and asked if we could leave our bags there for the day, promising we’d come back and eat dinner. We went and found the songthaews which were heading to the national park. We read that they stop running at 5 PM, so we could have 3 hours there at the park before having to come back. (pic: inside our songthaew to Khao Yai National Park)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsep7M0OvzzT3Qv5HKhb7wVNVIsXVmjCSJAhqfzKDH_DLXQqRTuRWp4-Xo9kVDFK-cXaOyODL2fkPEPU1h9mvZyr9kOj6Haf43fYR07t6-bBDK51tEixWxFfkTyeEKw3sOoAc8GjJTXBu/s1600-h/DSC00013.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279746144732470834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsep7M0OvzzT3Qv5HKhb7wVNVIsXVmjCSJAhqfzKDH_DLXQqRTuRWp4-Xo9kVDFK-cXaOyODL2fkPEPU1h9mvZyr9kOj6Haf43fYR07t6-bBDK51tEixWxFfkTyeEKw3sOoAc8GjJTXBu/s320/DSC00013.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />When we got to the park’s gate we got a different story. The trails at the park were all 7km or so from the gate. No easy way to get inside without a car. So there was nothing we could do from where we were. The gate worker also informed us that the last songthaew was the one we had came on. Whether all of this was true or not, we weren’t going to mess around. The gate worker told us we could hail a car leaving the park to take us back. She helped us do that, and we hopped in the back of a guy’s pickup truck. He and his friends were all heading home. The guy was real nice to us, and although he couldn’t take us the whole way, he helped us find a small songthaew to take us back from the farthest point he would take us. I haven’t “hitchhiked” since I was in South Africa. (pics: the view of the gate to Khao Yai National Park as we sped away in the bed of some guy's truck, Amy in the bed of the truck we hitchhiked with back to Pak Chong)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0N1VQVXdq99hQClEnBFVgwco4XNxbNwfgIOqA1uahqWYPJ4gr6lxglyrYWi0I_Y4NLTjsl0hiOqNh18hl5HjCP5TLiZvNB_JaHYESMhQYueCeQN12CpBy3CHVv58fehbS_9EJukNZs_hT/s1600-h/DSC00017.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279818579952173010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0N1VQVXdq99hQClEnBFVgwco4XNxbNwfgIOqA1uahqWYPJ4gr6lxglyrYWi0I_Y4NLTjsl0hiOqNh18hl5HjCP5TLiZvNB_JaHYESMhQYueCeQN12CpBy3CHVv58fehbS_9EJukNZs_hT/s320/DSC00017.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iyHVkMWeKs0hz9TI10MwWV769_FK6-QnWUoX0or6RyCFrS3bGeAJsCRQ0_0fhqhgy3cVVAtrz0pUxolJP5qUkes-ZrsbAXYpKo05RQxwLxccNvI8bpmHQslrPNzKPzftr-aAR0iLWJEW/s1600-h/DSC00021.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279746135335224162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iyHVkMWeKs0hz9TI10MwWV769_FK6-QnWUoX0or6RyCFrS3bGeAJsCRQ0_0fhqhgy3cVVAtrz0pUxolJP5qUkes-ZrsbAXYpKo05RQxwLxccNvI8bpmHQslrPNzKPzftr-aAR0iLWJEW/s320/DSC00021.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Back in town, with not much else to do. Amy and I grabbed some dessert items. We roamed around, tried to find shops to look at. Essentially we were finding ways to waste about 4 hours or so until dinner. We roamed across the rail tracks and sat down at an open air restaurant. Took out the cards and started playing Shed. I had taught her how to play at the train station this morning. (pics: fairly empty street in Pak Chong, Amy walking through the stalls at an evening market in Pak Chong, wandering across the tracks in the town, a Wat on the top of a hill that we could see from where we sat and played cards)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlntO2sJZ_Jjt54Do_DRkRl1hEoA2u_BxRQe6SZ60lIG8LJbQerX44MdwdBKhNKJyoew69wiAqaIDOzeEiO5Ri1sznrVPM6ejhh8sh-MO-8IVgB1iTDBLNtDfciDoQd7ya-_-8ScVkh5M4/s1600-h/DSC00027.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279746127092465570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlntO2sJZ_Jjt54Do_DRkRl1hEoA2u_BxRQe6SZ60lIG8LJbQerX44MdwdBKhNKJyoew69wiAqaIDOzeEiO5Ri1sznrVPM6ejhh8sh-MO-8IVgB1iTDBLNtDfciDoQd7ya-_-8ScVkh5M4/s320/DSC00027.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzFSOLjv6IMtdSgABZrnldf6xNDlpGgneS_VkDQji-6LPThuwHYlnux2uCUIDab4NNtfMmVSGWxIhQsgmT0hz1ArhZYCH5pSOo14CycXFF18czI-WQ5SJ90JTbuRe8jZzEr2k2FffN6tD/s1600-h/DSC00031.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745832633110978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzFSOLjv6IMtdSgABZrnldf6xNDlpGgneS_VkDQji-6LPThuwHYlnux2uCUIDab4NNtfMmVSGWxIhQsgmT0hz1ArhZYCH5pSOo14CycXFF18czI-WQ5SJ90JTbuRe8jZzEr2k2FffN6tD/s320/DSC00031.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig39EApd2NxkuO5Btsk24mu3zxwkWBFuDfoXIcxmCgLlB8SY0Hmf8_Gqs0KhKgq01uQwujG3tgDdvDtuOJuC76lq4wRfuw8pLFUwGp7mzAGWaYKYJjtur-ay-L4kUVh74by1KRsDeJ8yG2/s1600-h/DSC00034.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745788870237170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig39EApd2NxkuO5Btsk24mu3zxwkWBFuDfoXIcxmCgLlB8SY0Hmf8_Gqs0KhKgq01uQwujG3tgDdvDtuOJuC76lq4wRfuw8pLFUwGp7mzAGWaYKYJjtur-ay-L4kUVh74by1KRsDeJ8yG2/s320/DSC00034.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn8r9bSDZtPNRgqyXRr9L2Lw11_wN40yesutkAG4KZtAUTK0KBHPW3kgAI-rW75GXZAYQ9SQYQ-iq9Fq5FiG7qpW8h1eb7oE8kcMXVYFVMSQQbLM73ozRsgwTaJe80m3TkYzRDAbsZkPX/s1600-h/DSC00035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745780225154386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn8r9bSDZtPNRgqyXRr9L2Lw11_wN40yesutkAG4KZtAUTK0KBHPW3kgAI-rW75GXZAYQ9SQYQ-iq9Fq5FiG7qpW8h1eb7oE8kcMXVYFVMSQQbLM73ozRsgwTaJe80m3TkYzRDAbsZkPX/s320/DSC00035.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We had dinner at the same place. Our bags luckily were still there. We waited at the train station for about an hour and a half for our night train to the Laos border. Amy slept while I read. There were a lot of mosquitoes. (pic: Amy asleep on a bench while we wait for our train at the Pak Chong train station)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwYmzK5v7yxLjrNZIKnjNou8ArIdS8PYHxnkaoRTg3-P8Lipfw_Btd04mBrr5axbIHzsh5RQ7j9VM4rNFonI-7aosbqhVCZwcwIPrPJVImghorKH6ZGOFFL0BuPZDc30bZlK1xH-9zl8w/s1600-h/DSC00043.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745776700970290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwYmzK5v7yxLjrNZIKnjNou8ArIdS8PYHxnkaoRTg3-P8Lipfw_Btd04mBrr5axbIHzsh5RQ7j9VM4rNFonI-7aosbqhVCZwcwIPrPJVImghorKH6ZGOFFL0BuPZDc30bZlK1xH-9zl8w/s320/DSC00043.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Boarding the train, it was freezing cold inside. It was hard to sleep with it so cold, I was only in shorts and t-shirt. I wrapped my lungi around my upper body and used the provided blanket on my legs. Either way, didn’t sleep well, and nor did Amy.<br /><br /><strong>56th-7th in Vientiane 9/30<br /></strong><br />We arrived at the final city on the rail line in Thailand in the early morning. From there we could take a tuk-tuk the short distance to the Laos border crossing. We shared with another foreign couple, and overpaid for the short ride. I think I was the only one who was willing to bargain at that early hour.<br /><br />The Thai side was easy. Soon after arriving the border opened and we checked through. A bus was there to take all the people across the Mekong River to Laos. There we were able to get a visa on arrival, which took time. The most exciting thing was seeing the point in the road where the bus had to switch sides. Thailand drives on the left, and Laos on the right. The roads crisscrossed itself, and had stop signs for drivers to ensure they would not hit anyone in the crossing procedure. Then it was a half hour tuk-tuk ride to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. (pic: where the switch happens at the border because Thailand drives on the left and Laos on the right)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNbzxTDHIsm-7FbE3V_AymodjRP9_mxdaE1DzlLFW62NXDRJ_o1UZuTaoXr-qPSO5JmNR3L5HA4_qk5DxfnALWhB-U1Hg8Y4bVkfAaJVStqdQSL5jK89h1AEiwpF3XQXkRkUvchwHdnIF/s1600-h/DSC00047.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745771663194850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNbzxTDHIsm-7FbE3V_AymodjRP9_mxdaE1DzlLFW62NXDRJ_o1UZuTaoXr-qPSO5JmNR3L5HA4_qk5DxfnALWhB-U1Hg8Y4bVkfAaJVStqdQSL5jK89h1AEiwpF3XQXkRkUvchwHdnIF/s320/DSC00047.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We had asked the driver to take us to the international bus station, but after getting off, we would find out we were merely at the city bus station. It was frustrating. We asked around for how to get where we wanted to go, and it felt like we were running in circles. At this point both of us felt frantic. No one spoke English well enough to help us find how to get where we were going. Well luckily someone did, and we took a local bus to what they refer to as the Southern Bus Station. There we were able to buy our bus ticket for 2 days from now to Hue, Vietnam. For breakfast, we had French bread with a variety of mystery meats inside. Previously a French colony, the influence of the French was all over the country, including the French breads. (pic: Amy and the many French loaves available in Southeast Asia that we'd enjoy for many breakfasts)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVbcrnrNBzpdIuLNZ0tQEkjZ1BhyXJF-xQm3f-GsDKm4Env34SnaIzvS2FLWMVvGJiD7hI9UhE5YdL_qsGkmVXSzo6UWjiNrxgo6S4KHlw9JwxzJUgTI3Blb0MA50NdBvIH_Xu8o1hqH5/s1600-h/DSC00053.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745509960051522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVbcrnrNBzpdIuLNZ0tQEkjZ1BhyXJF-xQm3f-GsDKm4Env34SnaIzvS2FLWMVvGJiD7hI9UhE5YdL_qsGkmVXSzo6UWjiNrxgo6S4KHlw9JwxzJUgTI3Blb0MA50NdBvIH_Xu8o1hqH5/s320/DSC00053.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then had to take another tuk-tuk across town again to the Northern Bus Station. This is the third and last bus station in town. So our morning consisted of seeing all the bus stations in Vientiane. Here we booked our ticket for the evening to go to Phonosavan, home of the Plain of Jars, our main goal in Laos. We left our bags there for the day at the insistence of the ticket seller.<br /><br />Again we grabbed a tuk-tuk to the town center. Despite it being the capital and largest city in the country, it is really a medium sized town. We were excited after all the ticket buying to finally roam and see some of the exciting parts of the city. There was a nice streetscape on Vientiane’s main drag, and lots of Buddhist monks were walking this way and that. (pics: Tuk-tuks in the main street of Vientiane, Amy walking through the streets of Vientiane, the Laos President's house, a cat on the bust of a lion at a Wat(cute and fitting don't you think?))<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieb6GP98a7LZ2Hyyj_-K-ccf8UiUyHFEwGtazIY0NZKQUbp39uHSUC8nw5L6ZLOSl8CVFft6pQo3_zgcl0zA6an-ygi5FTHBbbIPvo_pqbED4CYDsOHmVcaDAR1DToC0h_kM9ambn6ji0y/s1600-h/DSC00059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745504513140386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieb6GP98a7LZ2Hyyj_-K-ccf8UiUyHFEwGtazIY0NZKQUbp39uHSUC8nw5L6ZLOSl8CVFft6pQo3_zgcl0zA6an-ygi5FTHBbbIPvo_pqbED4CYDsOHmVcaDAR1DToC0h_kM9ambn6ji0y/s320/DSC00059.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyPtIgpTnWeh0BeDcWuVULl7uK1mBs2RE2zbBvLxJktJomPvFhQGfsBrCj_4LUQrnMQxlqD6TlWEf2dR2ovQMojsk3WWlhdvJu43CQX9ftb3TCmiN-w1BPUy5jN1bxDESNYQFkQLyPzKL/s1600-h/DSC00060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745501337519970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyPtIgpTnWeh0BeDcWuVULl7uK1mBs2RE2zbBvLxJktJomPvFhQGfsBrCj_4LUQrnMQxlqD6TlWEf2dR2ovQMojsk3WWlhdvJu43CQX9ftb3TCmiN-w1BPUy5jN1bxDESNYQFkQLyPzKL/s320/DSC00060.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghlStkMWewo8meT2PyplLWT7SfvgSq7R3n0rMBJ5L1LCgQ2TZGdEmsmqaJtzqnITzUGparioznyeHcWNjAUxJO3auBEypMncWIPGchZvz25CLUQoN6B_I0V8CV3h9fHxPHsKmhhfI9fOrG/s1600-h/DSC00062.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745493311101634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghlStkMWewo8meT2PyplLWT7SfvgSq7R3n0rMBJ5L1LCgQ2TZGdEmsmqaJtzqnITzUGparioznyeHcWNjAUxJO3auBEypMncWIPGchZvz25CLUQoN6B_I0V8CV3h9fHxPHsKmhhfI9fOrG/s320/DSC00062.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmBhvzi_EVokCArX71svaaYUpD4eMtf3bQ9DWniDlNd-iU2JxRSgLvkL9WtnnoV61HLQc1d0wkYfKJV8cREm6HFq_hPC2xI-gPw2L-MPWMlMZYZ9VRaZtTpwGO2bhra7FtHxQv3U05fIM/s1600-h/DSC00066.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279815048739764322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmBhvzi_EVokCArX71svaaYUpD4eMtf3bQ9DWniDlNd-iU2JxRSgLvkL9WtnnoV61HLQc1d0wkYfKJV8cREm6HFq_hPC2xI-gPw2L-MPWMlMZYZ9VRaZtTpwGO2bhra7FtHxQv3U05fIM/s320/DSC00066.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After some pizza for lunch we made our way to<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patuxay"> Patuxay</a>, what is essentially Vientiane’s Arc de Triomphe. We climbed up inside and looked out over Vientiane. All the interior floors were ripe with gift-sellers. The city looked a lot bigger from the top. At the other end of what is essentially Vientiane’s Champs-Elysees, was the President’s house. (pics: myself in front of Patuxay, inside the many floors of Patuxay that are now big gift shops, Amy looking out from the top of Patuxay, looking down Lan Xang Boulevard towards the President's House and most of Vientiane)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7_rTX8s0dXmNl0kDJAhXNgWlgwsBxhEf85qpznYGbhsHIWyFDoCWqrhRUmqeqGgvQGTNy0XAUvzjEHiBbcGYiVikiV5umRsfDLs06Ci_ApvrRV-8Z9tLJ05GNQCZz70P3RzFshc-pjEq/s1600-h/DSC00072.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745147583615106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7_rTX8s0dXmNl0kDJAhXNgWlgwsBxhEf85qpznYGbhsHIWyFDoCWqrhRUmqeqGgvQGTNy0XAUvzjEHiBbcGYiVikiV5umRsfDLs06Ci_ApvrRV-8Z9tLJ05GNQCZz70P3RzFshc-pjEq/s320/DSC00072.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJRqcq1gUuiI_pYgHtdNZHsnhvzlWLUkx_YD4_JaxEqxpgJ3QEUrFzc8mZntHUAlq6CKg59Dbk_oU2YzYQis3k03Fb_WsxTQIuHnWGe2suNzLaTvRlg6SFvTj0_ZOp2vNECSFUOaobfMV/s1600-h/DSC00078.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745144007008786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJRqcq1gUuiI_pYgHtdNZHsnhvzlWLUkx_YD4_JaxEqxpgJ3QEUrFzc8mZntHUAlq6CKg59Dbk_oU2YzYQis3k03Fb_WsxTQIuHnWGe2suNzLaTvRlg6SFvTj0_ZOp2vNECSFUOaobfMV/s320/DSC00078.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-2mMPgvRIEPuP3ppo6it5lbOwN1syjMQbN_aEdM3cyeM8ho-6pcWYOlDum0gpTOxf8aQn36hehWjJkT4rk_7Cil4Jyo1kIFaYUBReoJykThRxiaThNaLT0i3HXV5KOwfWLGY_ywU_ig1/s1600-h/DSC00079.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745139071106674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-2mMPgvRIEPuP3ppo6it5lbOwN1syjMQbN_aEdM3cyeM8ho-6pcWYOlDum0gpTOxf8aQn36hehWjJkT4rk_7Cil4Jyo1kIFaYUBReoJykThRxiaThNaLT0i3HXV5KOwfWLGY_ywU_ig1/s320/DSC00079.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXA0Vx4AbavBpfo2VKy_cGMaumGHrZdNGnSIe7e121oiwNSYs3QuDzW9lPPEAiTXxkVbDcAwv-0_nSYENJZJamOc2OWOeykMCDhpV9g10ieIoM5NCPddN0EjU2qNft0Vuke2EZQSf8PMw/s1600-h/DSC00084.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745135711261730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXA0Vx4AbavBpfo2VKy_cGMaumGHrZdNGnSIe7e121oiwNSYs3QuDzW9lPPEAiTXxkVbDcAwv-0_nSYENJZJamOc2OWOeykMCDhpV9g10ieIoM5NCPddN0EjU2qNft0Vuke2EZQSf8PMw/s320/DSC00084.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then went to Wat Si Saket, the most famous Wat in Vientiane. Portions of its wooden construction for some reason really stood out to me. It started to rain a bit before, and neither of us minded sitting there a bit longer. (pics: Amy walking around Wat Si Saket, an image of the Buddha at Wat Si Saket, some of the wooden post and lintels at the temple, myself at Wat Si Saket)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-uFoHw7aYG1cAjyLHXSF97Z-5Ll-hVVoV1i1frs5TPEQEvSlAmPQ5JbN8N-DghcxXZbXdkuzdeGA1XwuV6Azk3C5sGVjvh7u-1prQtM0lIGcnmvfwl3UWKd_bZvb09DQGlLSqwknLS4s/s1600-h/DSC00095.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744567033474866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-uFoHw7aYG1cAjyLHXSF97Z-5Ll-hVVoV1i1frs5TPEQEvSlAmPQ5JbN8N-DghcxXZbXdkuzdeGA1XwuV6Azk3C5sGVjvh7u-1prQtM0lIGcnmvfwl3UWKd_bZvb09DQGlLSqwknLS4s/s320/DSC00095.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxl-B20T-1ud7LpMdkR4gccPnawzADTeQdJZ4xQSOwCeLIRbPrbXqFcCQ56PqozYzFdNJWRW-qctv6EeNCp0PD_z51Msnjbrh8AUX8wN5pIqOQsIkjrM6K3GtRzfASu1CWR1r8OlCHlZy/s1600-h/DSC00089.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745137670252130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxl-B20T-1ud7LpMdkR4gccPnawzADTeQdJZ4xQSOwCeLIRbPrbXqFcCQ56PqozYzFdNJWRW-qctv6EeNCp0PD_z51Msnjbrh8AUX8wN5pIqOQsIkjrM6K3GtRzfASu1CWR1r8OlCHlZy/s320/DSC00089.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmybVqQ9mGAKg9JVx6Xis74WzIsWsQKAxoJ1VUXasQbxmMzakcWwxQFolecgvrtp9E1MzfE7HG0uaZHxkXki2l3vHobZMGnEskoUs3krvD1rG8APtIJMz4ab4wcdYD7gOfwCm1Rh-rr0_/s1600-h/DSC00094.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744573610693250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmybVqQ9mGAKg9JVx6Xis74WzIsWsQKAxoJ1VUXasQbxmMzakcWwxQFolecgvrtp9E1MzfE7HG0uaZHxkXki2l3vHobZMGnEskoUs3krvD1rG8APtIJMz4ab4wcdYD7gOfwCm1Rh-rr0_/s320/DSC00094.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZSGAcaQr4NpqpMMvjN_E8oONNa2a9AWhkW9v9kVeTIu2tOKYcbRvut9ySQ_IYzvlMCZ7d12bd-4Wcj6veybh8ghyphenhyphenfKli_VxW-vfY-ynlbOxH6sTGXtC53397ElFFlXKM-YKfAqTiBTBN/s1600-h/DSC00107.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744559429187762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZSGAcaQr4NpqpMMvjN_E8oONNa2a9AWhkW9v9kVeTIu2tOKYcbRvut9ySQ_IYzvlMCZ7d12bd-4Wcj6veybh8ghyphenhyphenfKli_VxW-vfY-ynlbOxH6sTGXtC53397ElFFlXKM-YKfAqTiBTBN/s320/DSC00107.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After lunch and heading to an internet café, we walked over to the river, just to see it. It was neat to be seeing one of the great rivers of the world, the Mekong. Very special to look upon it. It was flowing very fast as the monsoon season was just ending. A few weeks ago it had flooded its banks, flowing into Vientiane. The sandbags were still piled up everywhere from that time.<br />We had our dinner on the riverside at a “fancy” place where you sat on pillows. We were essentially hanging right over the river on a bamboo shelter. The kitchen was up by the street and they brought food down to us. (pics: sandbags remaining from when the Mekong River flooded into Vientiane during the monsoon, the small riverside restaurants we dined at, Amy at the restaurant we ate at along the Mekong River, myself at the same restauarant)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihREYYu18chUv2Vxz0CnaNw9MuWPFwihEn716-NR9kZW1v7GXoc6frtGBaT3FqPCePdbpmozCxQFssRXt7BCnt-lFeYD44wpmRUn0rATUn4rFFjJ_-hmcgh_fMtbH5O3OUpieW5tXesiOj/s1600-h/DSC00111.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744563189349058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihREYYu18chUv2Vxz0CnaNw9MuWPFwihEn716-NR9kZW1v7GXoc6frtGBaT3FqPCePdbpmozCxQFssRXt7BCnt-lFeYD44wpmRUn0rATUn4rFFjJ_-hmcgh_fMtbH5O3OUpieW5tXesiOj/s320/DSC00111.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZg0koyXSBSh9fn8vFE9Mh55k8aQMdeDbCWReWbdCp1LiNvpb0xaG-yb8lCGwEQ_1eNkczYm-Ytxk6tiM8q3XR-yH2-lGDbRczkhv_XVfZ34ndyCNDkkNA-JnlGv-24IHRXQw_-F1yDZR/s1600-h/DSC00117.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744552733301138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZg0koyXSBSh9fn8vFE9Mh55k8aQMdeDbCWReWbdCp1LiNvpb0xaG-yb8lCGwEQ_1eNkczYm-Ytxk6tiM8q3XR-yH2-lGDbRczkhv_XVfZ34ndyCNDkkNA-JnlGv-24IHRXQw_-F1yDZR/s320/DSC00117.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8OP7oosZvepI8tgq0QICigc63knZNmglnM4zOWK1pC0NL_y8YUPyIK7Chvi6qg-B5LWQNGei6JRbqDX02X5aQ5J3oAXMXOT9YgK49fEj0aYNuvxabobUIjkBG2daOIN_oBIqR709sUqf/s1600-h/DSC00119.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744284268040274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8OP7oosZvepI8tgq0QICigc63knZNmglnM4zOWK1pC0NL_y8YUPyIK7Chvi6qg-B5LWQNGei6JRbqDX02X5aQ5J3oAXMXOT9YgK49fEj0aYNuvxabobUIjkBG2daOIN_oBIqR709sUqf/s320/DSC00119.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2QMwKKiarT3Z69oZ_LPhdwci5L-n7yJ-AbAHM9fCzJ-JIwyd15vXyCi7ghX49V-K6F23Gja8eLYn9rXDguSexBmvkTlqi9phyphenhyphencJNhWBuryXBwC9FMNoUM-ctKokRLx2KBriGS8edNJP22/s1600-h/DSC00120.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279744281302449282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2QMwKKiarT3Z69oZ_LPhdwci5L-n7yJ-AbAHM9fCzJ-JIwyd15vXyCi7ghX49V-K6F23Gja8eLYn9rXDguSexBmvkTlqi9phyphenhyphencJNhWBuryXBwC9FMNoUM-ctKokRLx2KBriGS8edNJP22/s320/DSC00120.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We took a tuk-tuk back to the bus station. There we showered in the bathrooms. You had to pay the bathroom fee, but we could use the buckets in the toilet stalls to dump water on ourselves. I have to say it is the oddest shower I’ve taken, and I had some weird ones in Bangladesh. I was dumping water from the basin which holds the toilet flushing water. My belongings precariously were hanging from the bits of door frame I could hang them on. It wasn’t so bad though. We both felt really refreshed when we were done.<br /><br />We got on the bus for our ride to Phonosavan. It was supposed to be around 12 hours overnight. It was a double story bus, but people only sat on top, below was all our stuff. And people had A LOT of stuff. It seemed like they had come into the city for a few days, picked up what they needed for their entire village, and were brining it back. Three hours into our trip the bus broke down. Despite it being a nicer VIP bus, the roads are pretty bad outside the capital. Two hours later two other buses came by, one full of people and with AC, and one not full and not with AC. They had everyone on the first bus fill the second, and then our passengers took the first. Our original bus was left behind. We were back on our way to Phonosavan.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-84701271231717245562008-12-08T03:27:00.025+06:002008-12-08T22:36:59.231+06:00Week 55: Should I take a bus, train, or camel to the Blue City?<div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">55th-1st in Mumbai 9/17</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />One thing I’ve noticed in traveling India is that Indians always ask me for my email address, while Bangladeshis always ask for my phone number. Perhaps this is an effect of India seeing more tourists, and thus aware that a tourist wouldn’t likely be around long enough to chat on the phone in a few weeks. Or Bangladeshis realize quickly that by my speaking Bengali, I probably am in Bangladesh for some sort of longer stay.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />Today I headed out to see the actual sights of Mumbai. I walked down to the Gate of India which I’d seen many times before in Saket’s photos. It was under construction when I arrived. Next to it was the famous Taj Hotel in Mumbai, which Saket had told me about as well. Took some photos and got hassled by a few people trying to sell me big balloons or little plastic marbles that grow if you put them in water. I bought a ticket for a boat trip to Elephanta Island, an hour out into the Mumbai Harbor. The water was rocking the boat pretty well, and I feared a bit for our safety. Although decent, not the safest looking craft. From the boat, as it went far across the water, I could see all of Mumbai stretching before me on its peninsula. It was very very long. Seemed to go on forever in high rises. It looked like NYC stretching along Manhattan Island. Couldn’t believe I was looking at one of the largest city in the world. I felt that Mumbai is the most “New York” of all the Indian cities. (pics: walking along the seawall with the Taj Hotel and Gate of India at the end, Gate of India under construction, Gate of India and Taj Hotel from the boat out to Elephanta Island, myself on the boat with the skyline of Mumbai behind)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKty-d-pFPrjOf3lYho1Ef7k0LQNtoy5Lq_HE8urKJsaWPFF8YxIpRr7C_eEZSUfHR0bWpEImw4YB04KJeytNoZcyLNCHLMUAG8RnCuwBxP53pY5EeN9xLpOBkG9aAy668vPIprllaYZE7/s1600-h/DSC09971.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277173050865139026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKty-d-pFPrjOf3lYho1Ef7k0LQNtoy5Lq_HE8urKJsaWPFF8YxIpRr7C_eEZSUfHR0bWpEImw4YB04KJeytNoZcyLNCHLMUAG8RnCuwBxP53pY5EeN9xLpOBkG9aAy668vPIprllaYZE7/s320/DSC09971.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-Dtmzz_5UIdq3NZW9Sb-HpLXaRX74r6wPQqdxItTxjOFKANMOlfaedeBMSv7MPoUiK9-DCVter144OTEX6vrPKxAhK-LxBWg_rI_Or1e9_VUIW0ATlfXgY1Qn-ziC1J4PLIXnChNLUMN/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2848%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172417075538834" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-Dtmzz_5UIdq3NZW9Sb-HpLXaRX74r6wPQqdxItTxjOFKANMOlfaedeBMSv7MPoUiK9-DCVter144OTEX6vrPKxAhK-LxBWg_rI_Or1e9_VUIW0ATlfXgY1Qn-ziC1J4PLIXnChNLUMN/s320/DSC10000+%2848%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wxhuntTtjnAfppSRW1QabIHKBc7HX56YEPkeiCKTE-OhpQFEcUOdhmFdK7_TdUM1tBC5_qDWdNJa08_aKR087FiEY9NMbIU1iEw-o1swA0opf3YIijbYAwwW9SubpTCBypgJLHUKpuoc/s1600-h/DSC09985.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277173040685045810" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wxhuntTtjnAfppSRW1QabIHKBc7HX56YEPkeiCKTE-OhpQFEcUOdhmFdK7_TdUM1tBC5_qDWdNJa08_aKR087FiEY9NMbIU1iEw-o1swA0opf3YIijbYAwwW9SubpTCBypgJLHUKpuoc/s320/DSC09985.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HT-OgpsICmBGZhAMgvwskIVNNRs0DQa2XregOkJirQ-8XOnb10SaY2k88Jr9_Zoled6xEN_oBJEPBDDdBWxRCZJcCn89hw3Gjlw7vxlKMEb7Oi-S__4bTQiJdgOiMr-pPbFJPLH9eg_N/s1600-h/DSC09997.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277173036459823106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HT-OgpsICmBGZhAMgvwskIVNNRs0DQa2XregOkJirQ-8XOnb10SaY2k88Jr9_Zoled6xEN_oBJEPBDDdBWxRCZJcCn89hw3Gjlw7vxlKMEb7Oi-S__4bTQiJdgOiMr-pPbFJPLH9eg_N/s320/DSC09997.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Elephanta Island was covered in jungle. The national park is established there because of the rock cut temples, which are famous in this region. These are the most accessible from Mumbai. The boat ride provides a complimentary tour guide, but when you arrive touts still try to convince you to come with them.<br />The temples were cut directly into the cliffs stretching in about 50 yards. The carvings of the gods large and detailed. They weren’t weathered as they are sheltered, but some have had vandalism from when the area wasn’t protected. Glad to have a tour guide for a bit who could tell us about all the carvings. Further on the path from this temple are a few more temples, but only this main temple was ever completed, and thus requires the most time. Monkeys were roaming everywhere, but not excessively playful. I didn’t fear they would steal anything. (pics: the main temple on Elephanta Island and the only fully completed one, myself inside the first temple, myself standing amongst the temple's columns, one of the many sculpted rock images of the Gods)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzWat_yr9937w_fIcj7m2ZCaFC_jZBwC0VaGsKuVWW0BBFwcMgRr1MJp8CrgOfGl8e5mGYLy22KMbqBDYH3XBKj-sNnrgnRuz1ujjYGh3YPZpc-TANhuJMBeMvhiFZ5M5r1xWLd9nPcSN/s1600-h/DSC10000+%285%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277173015579939074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzWat_yr9937w_fIcj7m2ZCaFC_jZBwC0VaGsKuVWW0BBFwcMgRr1MJp8CrgOfGl8e5mGYLy22KMbqBDYH3XBKj-sNnrgnRuz1ujjYGh3YPZpc-TANhuJMBeMvhiFZ5M5r1xWLd9nPcSN/s320/DSC10000+%285%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZORy5ylii9kxrsoEESbLCS5oCYr1fhp2reedZsMRr5dras-Jfg302ztE59Rix0JgKAy9GzzlGOpAnKbcIqa0NtJ0Pr0Hj6y9n95xIrHm0soXdyqY0ornMbMhf9f9d8JQEHIrzj8mu-s-/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2818%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172732515906226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZORy5ylii9kxrsoEESbLCS5oCYr1fhp2reedZsMRr5dras-Jfg302ztE59Rix0JgKAy9GzzlGOpAnKbcIqa0NtJ0Pr0Hj6y9n95xIrHm0soXdyqY0ornMbMhf9f9d8JQEHIrzj8mu-s-/s320/DSC10000+%2818%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1fEHCUvcqe6JVb4KMQO-yA0oikaMDA5TYvlP3qv5rD6ZOzgKfeqxLj3V7JzcMdmt2o28qhE6p7VRSLmPT40Z32ANsWrj2MeD1DFklL4nE9dNuPqy45ArxbhOWDCLB4GR86hELlvITNLB/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2820%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172720917612610" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1fEHCUvcqe6JVb4KMQO-yA0oikaMDA5TYvlP3qv5rD6ZOzgKfeqxLj3V7JzcMdmt2o28qhE6p7VRSLmPT40Z32ANsWrj2MeD1DFklL4nE9dNuPqy45ArxbhOWDCLB4GR86hELlvITNLB/s320/DSC10000+%2820%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfD-zGezFMeFXmFCVPb4TyOhCmUiSH_JudqkUB_AeAQrl9Lro-6kj-_JTzJv54SILjuDXGPd5zZiRIRfm40BEC_V9lfjsQbYjeS2j6PTa10pmOnR82NFuJC8ewHp3JKp-qPZd7ymt1yYYC/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2810%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172740534130498" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfD-zGezFMeFXmFCVPb4TyOhCmUiSH_JudqkUB_AeAQrl9Lro-6kj-_JTzJv54SILjuDXGPd5zZiRIRfm40BEC_V9lfjsQbYjeS2j6PTa10pmOnR82NFuJC8ewHp3JKp-qPZd7ymt1yYYC/s320/DSC10000+%2810%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After the last temple was a sign telling you to walk up to Cannon Hill. The climb took about 8 minutes, but at the top one could look out over the island to the harbor, from an World War 2 era huge cannon,. A second and third cannon were around the other side of the hill, and from there you could see the Port of Mumbai nestled amongst the islands. Really cool. On the way down I had lunch at a “tourist trap” restaurant, one of the many places lining the stairs up to the temples. (pics: the last temple that one sees on Elephanta Island, the World War 2 era cannon on the top of Cannon Hill<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjxYBPx05q6EiMG5-i-_tMxU37RWiQOLSWHoCZd-3K9P1aQW6wTToSlatMRc2aCBNMn5tiyK9j10Z3AIHUxeZXlQ04vIihzSo1xnyH7dvshur-4A2IxPtk7kLeKLi2tGfwCUs_OWFmy9c/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2831%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172721051626210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjxYBPx05q6EiMG5-i-_tMxU37RWiQOLSWHoCZd-3K9P1aQW6wTToSlatMRc2aCBNMn5tiyK9j10Z3AIHUxeZXlQ04vIihzSo1xnyH7dvshur-4A2IxPtk7kLeKLi2tGfwCUs_OWFmy9c/s320/DSC10000+%2831%29.JPG" border="0" /></a>)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6V3SYrfu1EgInkTMP-f4ugSXPYDQ9cDJmL4rDBRf1FKBXtrDO5zBNVSCfr2opO1L78wXhEzO6flHrgtIPHlCtmjtzJWtujPdg4xqHH_7RRJkcHceovSiyuKNh1Tqmfz9z7SIryyVzMXn/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2834%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172718694836130" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6V3SYrfu1EgInkTMP-f4ugSXPYDQ9cDJmL4rDBRf1FKBXtrDO5zBNVSCfr2opO1L78wXhEzO6flHrgtIPHlCtmjtzJWtujPdg4xqHH_7RRJkcHceovSiyuKNh1Tqmfz9z7SIryyVzMXn/s320/DSC10000+%2834%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />To sit upstairs on the boat for the ride back you have to pay Rs 10, wasn’t the case on the way out. I refused. It was worth it only one on the way out, when it was free. Sat downstairs.<br /><br />I headed over to Chowpatty Beach on the western side of the peninsula. There you can watch the sunset over Malabar Hill, a richer area of Mumbai, and see the Queen’s Necklace (the name given to Marine Drive’s string of streetlights lining the highway going along the western part of Mumbai.) Tons of people strolling or hanging out on the sea walls. Water looks disgusting below, some people mining for garbage along the rocks. One guy sleeping. I sat at the sandy beach area for a bit and watched little kids “ride” the four wheelers or little motorbikes, actually getting pushed by a paid hand. People were hanging out eating snacks. Sunset was pretty, and after I got some “lunch/dinner” at a beachside stall, which gave me some rolls and tomato sauce with paneer. The Queen’s Necklace really was gorgeous lit up at night. (pics: man asleep on the edge of the sea wall's wave breakers, Chowpatty Beach a bit before sunset, child being pushed around on an electric 4 wheeler that doesn't work by a beach worker, Queen's Necklace and pedestrians at night)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaqzmsjtvPf6TwNRTQujESlEWUp7INeiCNN4QKVD4Zo433h3Lxlc_lJ64kIOm1TJUZgG5yJrjpTJ1Qty4k7LqalZWmnM7E2803erDHtGWTiqX89qZt0OlIJ6tLPD4arGHTUeud18PFhro/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2857%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172410720607938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaqzmsjtvPf6TwNRTQujESlEWUp7INeiCNN4QKVD4Zo433h3Lxlc_lJ64kIOm1TJUZgG5yJrjpTJ1Qty4k7LqalZWmnM7E2803erDHtGWTiqX89qZt0OlIJ6tLPD4arGHTUeud18PFhro/s320/DSC10000+%2857%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jDznMYHY_uHSL27JpyBmyvf6LdmWgjwV07dl_hky2vtes-EDSfrzw7pOkqQHozeHdraCR9EwLfCygNuQveGfv-EtR11b9MYkZa3AG7pMrAZAuMzOJrqtmp5lddFxyWBB68KG8ubibNoQ/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2863%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172410176137154" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jDznMYHY_uHSL27JpyBmyvf6LdmWgjwV07dl_hky2vtes-EDSfrzw7pOkqQHozeHdraCR9EwLfCygNuQveGfv-EtR11b9MYkZa3AG7pMrAZAuMzOJrqtmp5lddFxyWBB68KG8ubibNoQ/s320/DSC10000+%2863%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1lfltgd9h5Q45tJWbXErhVT44glCD-U5WTjEE0CnxDhJ7PyubZ4PLVReoQCZmjtIcWWSZwA-ckH1evwgOEc-v1Pru5ni0KAjc0Qxe5W8SpX137flhHJeAhY3m_rgmk4dwKHNUORe572k/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2870%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172396865413506" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1lfltgd9h5Q45tJWbXErhVT44glCD-U5WTjEE0CnxDhJ7PyubZ4PLVReoQCZmjtIcWWSZwA-ckH1evwgOEc-v1Pru5ni0KAjc0Qxe5W8SpX137flhHJeAhY3m_rgmk4dwKHNUORe572k/s320/DSC10000+%2870%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb4Y6zUeoARgBQaBmmXeJ675goOarLJo2_5tDC-0sbHVIaQI_svQYX5MRtNu3zbRBV3Z2pDXaS9jHltIBbmC41JmS6AVH196UAJ_51UiH92hCwI2-qMWs8mskwMxU527HAzSxy2Tn9DM-/s1600-h/DSC10000+%2887%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172394689035730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb4Y6zUeoARgBQaBmmXeJ675goOarLJo2_5tDC-0sbHVIaQI_svQYX5MRtNu3zbRBV3Z2pDXaS9jHltIBbmC41JmS6AVH196UAJ_51UiH92hCwI2-qMWs8mskwMxU527HAzSxy2Tn9DM-/s320/DSC10000+%2887%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Back at the hotel, Uri and went out and got dinner, roaming the streets again. We ended up getting an omelet on the street. Afterwards, we went to a juice stall, and I tried out carrot juice…eh.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">55th-2nd on bus to Udaipur 9/18</span><br /><br />I woke up, had breakfast in the room and headed out to the train station to take the suburban train to the bus stop. This was my first time really booking a bus outside of Bangladesh or Nepal. In those places, the bus ticket we got gave us assigned seats. This one did not, I was worried.<br />Walking to the train I got sweaty carrying my bag. Didn’t take a taxi or a bus, should’ve. Arrived at the bus counter, and waited for a bus with the guy who sold me a ticket. Where was the bus? It was coming he said. Just a tad late. Finally it arrived and they determined where I’d sit, my “assigned seat.” I had asked to be by a window, but I was given an aisle seat. Little did I know this was a blessing.<br />This bus had sleeper bunks for people, but I had one of the twelve seats in back, which were nestled underneath some bunks. The people above us got sick from the bus jolting, and vomited out the window. Luckily most people closed their windows in time when they saw the vomit coming, but if I had been there I doubt I would’ve seen, so luckily I was on the aisle.<br />The bathroom was horrible. I wished it wasn’t even installed on the bus. It smelled, and sitting near the back, it was really bad. Every time someone opened the door to go in, the stench crept out. I finally went back at some point to pee, and I saw why it was so bad. For all I could tell, there was no outlet for the pee to be dispensed. You just seemed to pee on the floor, it was not clear whether there was a small hole for it to go out. Felt like I was standing in a pool of urine. I used it anyway, and got out and disgustedly walked back to my seat. The man next to me did not smell to great either, so I was trapped between that smell and the bathroom smell.<br /><br />Still, the ride was pretty, mountains were green and lush. We drove out of the city for two hours before the high-rises disappeared. Really cool to see all Mumbai stretch on forever. (pics: northern parts of Mumbai, tall apartment buildings still can be seen two hours outside of the city center)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaYRI4g2QrsPVD-Miram2R1qQDTEeJs8Qwrj86AWh-MyYT8ROHLl9GqLK6ikdDA0aGZzGjbxeftSNXNo3DFlbcY_7jQ822kz_UUU6h87rW4lqWIqImc7r-sFAfS45V9AKXhL8fNI2fePM/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28108%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171998233460290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaYRI4g2QrsPVD-Miram2R1qQDTEeJs8Qwrj86AWh-MyYT8ROHLl9GqLK6ikdDA0aGZzGjbxeftSNXNo3DFlbcY_7jQ822kz_UUU6h87rW4lqWIqImc7r-sFAfS45V9AKXhL8fNI2fePM/s320/DSC10000+%28108%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYcCEHJYgWpk7aPxMGlsZuOCMv4xBGD8BaLXjC-l88AIdh8LlaVYNJ9HJ5bkAH7ct5FaVFTGXAfPQA4mzihSy4tAbjh7pBxNSULQ4t_7q9ZSNfkZx9X7fMhxNPg2EmRzHIJTXtfwev2VC/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28105%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277172004156643442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYcCEHJYgWpk7aPxMGlsZuOCMv4xBGD8BaLXjC-l88AIdh8LlaVYNJ9HJ5bkAH7ct5FaVFTGXAfPQA4mzihSy4tAbjh7pBxNSULQ4t_7q9ZSNfkZx9X7fMhxNPg2EmRzHIJTXtfwev2VC/s320/DSC10000+%28105%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At a toll plaza, there was a bunch of cows blocking a toll lane.<br /><br />Somewhere north of Mumbai, for a 2 mile stretch, our bus decided to drive on the other side of the divided highway. We had crossed the road to use a gas station, but it was out of gas. So because there was no convenient way to cross back through the concrete barrier, our bus drove down the opposite side. It was horrifying. I covered my eyes. Cars and trucks honked at us as they flew by in the other direction. No one expected us to be there. And we didn’t do it slow either, we were cruising. All other vehicles had to swerve quickly into the other lane of their two-land southbound highway. Finally there was a gap in the concrete barrier and we crossed back over to our side.<br /><br />It started raining at times, and we had to close the windows, that did not help the smell one bit. A lot of the rain was dripping inside, splattering on those at the window seats, another good reason I had the aisle. Then the water coming inside started gathering and pooling throughout the bus. It was then that I picked up by small backpack and kept it on my lap the rest of the time. I’m glad my other bag is a dry bag.<br /><br />We stopped for “dinner” and a bathroom break. I didn’t want to eat a real dinner as I was afraid of upsetting my stomach. Instead I got some biscuits and chips, and a bit more water. It was pouring, and everyone had to walk through muddy water to get to/from the bus. So inside the bus it became similar. But this did not stop the fifteen men who would board the bus at this stop to sit in the aisle! Now, despite all the water pooling, the smells, and the closed windows, we had fifteen guys sitting/sleeping in the aisle. For those near the front, it made it impossible to go to the back bathroom, perhaps a good thing. (pic: fifteen men who boarded the bus in the evening and spent the night in the aisle)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8q4r9ZjKoUhhjE6IxQ97lFoC6nLQ2b5_MLSlgju-AjnlMNakdsoMiq7T86SMXS23LOvECLkFeSvsyuR9h1rkhc4O16XdBY_0jARUCneUaBuwLhMfFj3LrnI2K_Z7BEpUg7H1pqmRtbnW1/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28116%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171994081794274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8q4r9ZjKoUhhjE6IxQ97lFoC6nLQ2b5_MLSlgju-AjnlMNakdsoMiq7T86SMXS23LOvECLkFeSvsyuR9h1rkhc4O16XdBY_0jARUCneUaBuwLhMfFj3LrnI2K_Z7BEpUg7H1pqmRtbnW1/s320/DSC10000+%28116%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We are traveling on the new Indian superhighway system. But it’s still under construction at points, especially in places they are building flyovers. What our bus decided to do in one situation where traffic was horrendous, somewhere outside of Ahmedabad, was too try out the back roads of Gujarat. This wasn’t very successful at all. These double decker buses were not suited for those small lanes. In the rain, it was just an utter disaster. At some point our driver realized his shortcut idea had not worked. We had to make many U-Turns just to get out of it all, and it wasted about 1 hour of our time. I really can’t tell where we went, it was so dark. Somehow we got back to the highway, and then again, sat in the same traffic.<br /><br />I slept with my backpack on my chest. In the middle of the night, as I wasn’t really ever fully sleeping, I saw a man suiting in the aisle drinking a bottle of water…my water! In my worst Hindi possible I told him that was my bottle…luckily he understood my fake Hindi (I was tired, I probably just spoke Bengali.) He put it down, but it was still ¼ empty.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">55th-3rd in Udaipur 9/19</span><br /><br />We arrived several hours later than we were supposed to thanks to our nighttime turnaround, and the rain. By the time the sun was up, we were in Rajasthan, and there was desert all around. The road was emptier here, and rolled through the hills gently.<br /><br />One funny thing I saw was a man collecting the flowers off of the bushes in the middle of the highway. I assume he has called “dibbs” on those from the highway authority. (pic: man stealing the flowers on the bushes in the highway median barrier)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36QS0CBRfS74e3ik-8we_bvE1SlLUWBm9z90TmW7D7vVb3SOxAxQlum7ieLmxzpmyxYxb7bNceFwwGgTLwxfF18OpfHaB4uU2XOeAi7pX5aFGurAalM2awTVHdWNdwN6PZMgAsAsQG1U_/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28120%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171988987725186" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36QS0CBRfS74e3ik-8we_bvE1SlLUWBm9z90TmW7D7vVb3SOxAxQlum7ieLmxzpmyxYxb7bNceFwwGgTLwxfF18OpfHaB4uU2XOeAi7pX5aFGurAalM2awTVHdWNdwN6PZMgAsAsQG1U_/s320/DSC10000+%28120%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Arriving in Udaipur, I got off the bus and booked my ticket for that night to go to Jodhpur. That done, I got a hotel room for the day to shower and leave my things.<br />I started walking towards the city, ignoring the catcalls of the passing by autorickshaws. It was two kilometers into the city, not too bad for a walk. The streets got narrower as I got closer in. Alleys began shooting off here and there.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScnKbaAx2VBikoz-oGjdSS8cgiAZCR7t03iATE7tBjxJXbdjeA3-YHyr4_1LbRKpPrlv752gmH1e1sK8gaRxB_UCgToU8U0BCwd6YLROE1t95QGhhNrwO2bDKR59WxX4yejQYTY9WCo5q/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28132%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171984975329874" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScnKbaAx2VBikoz-oGjdSS8cgiAZCR7t03iATE7tBjxJXbdjeA3-YHyr4_1LbRKpPrlv752gmH1e1sK8gaRxB_UCgToU8U0BCwd6YLROE1t95QGhhNrwO2bDKR59WxX4yejQYTY9WCo5q/s320/DSC10000+%28132%29.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: alley in Udaipur shooting off from the main street)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was looking to get inside the City Palace, but first take a ride on the lake in a boat. But the lake was very low, and someone I asked said it would not be possible to ride out unless I was going to the hotel in the middle.<br />I sat on the side of the lake in a worn out stone pagoda; I waved hello to the other guys hanging out in a pagoda nearby. I sat and read Angels and Demons. Soon two high school students were using my pagoda as well to have a post-school cigarette. They asked me not to tell their parents, I promised I wouldn’t. We chatted about their school and my travels. They left and soon it started to rain. I stayed underneath avoiding where the rain was coming in. It created a neat haze over the lake. (pics: Lake Palace in the middle of Udaipur's lake, myself reading in my pagoda with the Lake Palace in the background, two high school boys who used the pagoda I was in as an afterschool smoking spot, it started to rain and all the men in the pagoda next to me were huddled underneath)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggh41b4U7zfqf4bOwtgP65XtalE3Ow9ORenOIFerMoGOpu6vjwGdPbfvq99rNRqeMNmU4BrBlwiLWKaXllSGJGdilXcUiVZOUrsgGgx6jphNwV3fM06ntNpNJm6z61BeXGOgr7LzisGR3E/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28137%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171677280891714" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggh41b4U7zfqf4bOwtgP65XtalE3Ow9ORenOIFerMoGOpu6vjwGdPbfvq99rNRqeMNmU4BrBlwiLWKaXllSGJGdilXcUiVZOUrsgGgx6jphNwV3fM06ntNpNJm6z61BeXGOgr7LzisGR3E/s320/DSC10000+%28137%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNo4SGHcA_69AbrUjOrk26mBHPIxamPYzEG7z7bWZN16a1YBD6KnN6ocl25fyfJ8T5TzPqTM0AOfWEWPiJt6e99qoEl0tFEydlxsC2vEG_fOdNYHWQUN4GzN5oPnvbYZS2FXgoIB3hOxHy/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28141%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171675766072546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNo4SGHcA_69AbrUjOrk26mBHPIxamPYzEG7z7bWZN16a1YBD6KnN6ocl25fyfJ8T5TzPqTM0AOfWEWPiJt6e99qoEl0tFEydlxsC2vEG_fOdNYHWQUN4GzN5oPnvbYZS2FXgoIB3hOxHy/s320/DSC10000+%28141%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtrJPop37hbI_450frh2I_0Eo_8bZxN-mlsHxz_i665Usqd_wblv5_dT0mr3QSorgz5BmPzx_EfSDchh6c8FxplnAzYvkr1q-Zq-hcCRkxNI0PWOLqoI3ahaiIh0vvQO6lrcqBTcF3PLty/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28142%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171668914692530" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtrJPop37hbI_450frh2I_0Eo_8bZxN-mlsHxz_i665Usqd_wblv5_dT0mr3QSorgz5BmPzx_EfSDchh6c8FxplnAzYvkr1q-Zq-hcCRkxNI0PWOLqoI3ahaiIh0vvQO6lrcqBTcF3PLty/s320/DSC10000+%28142%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhltImTVgrLF_rV7oHX9NuJdq16stqhlEYb6vTn7jn73mZAYVkXhajgowbP_ieVhiNX8yvyq7LOmBQE2ycyi4MfUCK1PG9s5h6B0Cn-HgvWU2_7DuxABfHtJ-ip7gfQdwZhiQ9sGp3FWG/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28146%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171666096041394" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhltImTVgrLF_rV7oHX9NuJdq16stqhlEYb6vTn7jn73mZAYVkXhajgowbP_ieVhiNX8yvyq7LOmBQE2ycyi4MfUCK1PG9s5h6B0Cn-HgvWU2_7DuxABfHtJ-ip7gfQdwZhiQ9sGp3FWG/s320/DSC10000+%28146%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had lunch at a rooftop restaurant, and I picked a good one because it seemed to be the highest around. Could see the whole lake and nearby hills, some with palaces on top. Lunch was incredibly good; I wolfed down the curries they gave me. (pics: Udaipur and the hills beyond (some with palaces on top), the two palaces on the lake in Udaipur)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgXmhxIapOGW1ptqX7MFmaT3q4o_E6vNPuHLi2YX5sypP-eIjy6uF45wIQkWXurB7POohXQvpQZ0TkkSueA8x0XDqjf2dF8k7dYzuZgNLJP3540mKrubHull7ZpC_gUDGnawk90wC67Gz/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28159%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170541973787698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgXmhxIapOGW1ptqX7MFmaT3q4o_E6vNPuHLi2YX5sypP-eIjy6uF45wIQkWXurB7POohXQvpQZ0TkkSueA8x0XDqjf2dF8k7dYzuZgNLJP3540mKrubHull7ZpC_gUDGnawk90wC67Gz/s320/DSC10000+%28159%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL-JX8QXK7_Z31-afpkuAvxrv0nqf12NFXiit9Xr3T3GiHVALhVE5lPqi4VBaXmA3zuPYR45wr8KYeQPlFhyo7zsGjyA4HwlelD_DJxAQPLtGuETPNKoEOpnqOfyJMabESo5qv6EQxblY/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28158%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171656815751042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL-JX8QXK7_Z31-afpkuAvxrv0nqf12NFXiit9Xr3T3GiHVALhVE5lPqi4VBaXmA3zuPYR45wr8KYeQPlFhyo7zsGjyA4HwlelD_DJxAQPLtGuETPNKoEOpnqOfyJMabESo5qv6EQxblY/s320/DSC10000+%28158%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had not realized the City Palace was going to close so soon and had to rush from lunch to even guarantee myself an hour inside. It is one of the largest palaces in India, and I didn’t want to miss it. I hired a tour guide as I felt I would not be able to appreciate the place as much without knowing its history. He was worth it. He explained stories of the royal family and how it related to the palace. We made it through the tour without staying too late. One of the kings who used to live there was paralyzed, so a lot of artifacts are from his era, with toilets and chairs built especially for him. It was neat to see pictures of the current maharaja’s family.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span>(pic: myself in front of Udaipur's City Palace)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianLmi-EipBGsdbEikki-WVwJA3NBBoAfGCxFdk7OW6O-jYIGKlbds-basAqYTgaSMAXlM7YRBVBSffjSlHQx-S20yvuh6YBroPCrbT5GeZoWSLnNmEl8iIMCki1X4RFZvhAPzABTXrETl/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28175%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170530955856466" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianLmi-EipBGsdbEikki-WVwJA3NBBoAfGCxFdk7OW6O-jYIGKlbds-basAqYTgaSMAXlM7YRBVBSffjSlHQx-S20yvuh6YBroPCrbT5GeZoWSLnNmEl8iIMCki1X4RFZvhAPzABTXrETl/s320/DSC10000+%28175%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At sunset, I headed down to the lake to watch. The colors of the city as it set were glowing. Many others, locals and tourists, were there watching it too. Stayed until the Lake Palace lights came on, and then walked back into town. (pics: street heading down to the waterside at sunset, palaces on the lakes at sunset, sunset over Udaipur, Lake Palace lit up at night)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7r23lR2q9jhVH-tzqD1o-iFSekDVrXyKxlej14J0HBDIYcwKS-zkWCeXX9kI68ylVZVD2RMplBnBeLdUPLfqEMYC9iJyxV11nBe8a-QhjbRIGGNmqUFg0Vh2R91DaJSSfAYEDPawBZNm6/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28179%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170523438072034" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7r23lR2q9jhVH-tzqD1o-iFSekDVrXyKxlej14J0HBDIYcwKS-zkWCeXX9kI68ylVZVD2RMplBnBeLdUPLfqEMYC9iJyxV11nBe8a-QhjbRIGGNmqUFg0Vh2R91DaJSSfAYEDPawBZNm6/s320/DSC10000+%28179%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1cWAYrRcgAot4fkJGabdNOGLL43Zw8nQLV7exaXagJ-34V3n4Br2XfFOSj4IFvUrnxhHzfGJwgyCqDBn6Wn4z9BguZGW4Rf7lvFOL8Ts10DxGOcH4dxUPZNXHmqnAaY4iilTQRwbOucj/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28193%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277169994443041282" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1cWAYrRcgAot4fkJGabdNOGLL43Zw8nQLV7exaXagJ-34V3n4Br2XfFOSj4IFvUrnxhHzfGJwgyCqDBn6Wn4z9BguZGW4Rf7lvFOL8Ts10DxGOcH4dxUPZNXHmqnAaY4iilTQRwbOucj/s320/DSC10000+%28193%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3CrCZSLnDDGQ41UPvoWRaa9dBAa2A72NTcnEGhTmKT6a8IqUwlGElqVkNwk1VsFKlvAtOrThL1MShhkb-RZrjPNbKFVEayhaCdMCH2-EZAAQc6t3svuF804N3GKVrUiZfrz0q3D1yT4u/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28188%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170523715696658" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3CrCZSLnDDGQ41UPvoWRaa9dBAa2A72NTcnEGhTmKT6a8IqUwlGElqVkNwk1VsFKlvAtOrThL1MShhkb-RZrjPNbKFVEayhaCdMCH2-EZAAQc6t3svuF804N3GKVrUiZfrz0q3D1yT4u/s320/DSC10000+%28188%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2n_4RyPorBWhDqAprcAFbKZ9kBhEWj_lr2DHZxWv-XY1BgIVWPnE64R6qEfQlasaLMkBxrG9jlV8mFVkh02E1l0P67pZYtdFVsJ4WlBAX07Nu8pMmvaVVQeB4omSt6DgVuuSClh1jvm-d/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28199%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170002336203666" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2n_4RyPorBWhDqAprcAFbKZ9kBhEWj_lr2DHZxWv-XY1BgIVWPnE64R6qEfQlasaLMkBxrG9jlV8mFVkh02E1l0P67pZYtdFVsJ4WlBAX07Nu8pMmvaVVQeB4omSt6DgVuuSClh1jvm-d/s320/DSC10000+%28199%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I stopped at a Hindu temple which was alive with noise from prayer, and was lit up. Sat and watched the activities. (pics: Hindu temple lit up at night from the street level, just outside the Hindu Temple's main entrance as it was lit up)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnW6GwRHXOy71K8i7U-HxPQu-JuHTJ57c55wm81uZ8irMwqsduiHsALhR0iP4u4ohDYO-mhI4GDrcqqBWPDw0L3elK8lsXOOG8aVYTGBuZ_iiNLWz2xpduCpLxuy_M5NGWLfZaDuDA7sqY/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28209%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170013813006642" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnW6GwRHXOy71K8i7U-HxPQu-JuHTJ57c55wm81uZ8irMwqsduiHsALhR0iP4u4ohDYO-mhI4GDrcqqBWPDw0L3elK8lsXOOG8aVYTGBuZ_iiNLWz2xpduCpLxuy_M5NGWLfZaDuDA7sqY/s320/DSC10000+%28209%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguheiFUO0_ugbLSo-Or2CV0wCApxJLn_0u70XnZ9jwYa-6Q2tSW1U1a8v4Y6sb4jUKoeuG61BtkpBNknQqsb6peRrIjI22XLMJ83spv47_NQdv5n-aUWLKNMXe11fzYzYTR60wFQB9Xl0z/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28211%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170015858607090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguheiFUO0_ugbLSo-Or2CV0wCApxJLn_0u70XnZ9jwYa-6Q2tSW1U1a8v4Y6sb4jUKoeuG61BtkpBNknQqsb6peRrIjI22XLMJ83spv47_NQdv5n-aUWLKNMXe11fzYzYTR60wFQB9Xl0z/s320/DSC10000+%28211%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I walked back to the hotel, showered again. Got some snacks for the next bus. Got on the bus with no issues, and had a decent seat. Actually slept. Much better than the last ride.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">55th-4th in Jodhpur 9/20</span><br /><br />At some point at night we made a 15 minute stop for food. All I remember is that there was a music program on TV with a mustachioed cartoonish looking singer and his dancing girlfriend. They were acting out some drama. The song never ended, it had started before we arrived and was still going strong when I left. I can still picture the video weeks later.<br /><br />I arrived very early in the morning, around 4:30am. The hotel owner had warned me not to let someone scam me when I arrived, apparent it’s really bad in Jodhpur. I found a taxi and told him to take me to the hotel, and prayed it would be the right one. Luckily, there was no silly business, and I arrived just fine. The owner came out to greet me. I showered, and went back to bed for a few hours.<br /><br />After waking up, I went around and bought some soap I needed and detergent. I washed my clothes in the bathroom, and then prepared for my day.<br /><br />My goal for the day was Mehrangarh Fort atop the hill, anything after that would just be a bonus. I climbed up through the city streets approaching the fort. They got very steep. The blue of the city was already apparent. I had been looking forward to seeing this a long time. I presented on cities of color in my junior year of college. As I climbed up the mountain, I kept looking back at the streets bustling below me, because I could see more and more of the city. (pics: narrow streets leading up to the fort, at times the fort was visible from the streets of the Blue City below)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qcNYjAyLosfHl9w_GD-xi8jIThKHYRcD8povEE6DfMBFpV0ewTM15qEm_kDi9rdZzEAh_EtAEdfYinsVtZF1fh3GBVdvyOVIrhyphenhyphenCJn4_OmUWLqA8ZxuQ4JQCWSu_DHtC1QRYPGMmX2lT/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28226%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167913571302930" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qcNYjAyLosfHl9w_GD-xi8jIThKHYRcD8povEE6DfMBFpV0ewTM15qEm_kDi9rdZzEAh_EtAEdfYinsVtZF1fh3GBVdvyOVIrhyphenhyphenCJn4_OmUWLqA8ZxuQ4JQCWSu_DHtC1QRYPGMmX2lT/s320/DSC10000+%28226%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-quFKIOM4GY-iYdc5IWhN7JqtVC0hCXLWTxStRl8n4MTMpHGvOWUyqL2HSDIeGmuwMypRDOfKC1yjEr4Vk6tTFLIQD-oFkQ28puTUI6Xrr18Dhx7i9x-AcZWkyuYSnlq1KUnlBT1IjdG/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28225%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277170028557778066" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-quFKIOM4GY-iYdc5IWhN7JqtVC0hCXLWTxStRl8n4MTMpHGvOWUyqL2HSDIeGmuwMypRDOfKC1yjEr4Vk6tTFLIQD-oFkQ28puTUI6Xrr18Dhx7i9x-AcZWkyuYSnlq1KUnlBT1IjdG/s320/DSC10000+%28225%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I reached the entrance to the fort and went to pick up my ticket and the complimentary audio tour, which the guide books say is great. But they told me I needed a Rs2000 deposit to reserve one, or my license or passport. I had none of those. I was upset because I had just climbed all the way up. After a few minutes of begging they finally conceded to give me one for Rs1000 deposit. Kind of them.<br />The palace was beautiful, and the audio tour did help explain what I was looking at. I, however, liked the views of Jodhpur much more, and to finally see the blue color which gives the city its fame. I ate lunch there, and the food was actually decently priced. (pics: exterior of Mehrangarh Fort up close, myself in one of the many courtyards in the palace, the exterior of the fort was ornately carved, one of the many royal meeting rooms in the palace, the linealogy of the kings who have ruled in Jodhpur, the wide exterior wall that is walkable around most of the palace)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlfhir-pAxd6ESUuzU4ImquNH5mixp9jOt3uTRuRbQOSGCEZgi004FxZ8HwhjDwaz8HM8XuFyBLH6NtsbtJxRrP6aHyuhyvE2RFw0_Fu_ngPCSNivhcdcIyJUS6NtwNgbFL6Y4bYc6m-nT/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28231%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167917267355330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlfhir-pAxd6ESUuzU4ImquNH5mixp9jOt3uTRuRbQOSGCEZgi004FxZ8HwhjDwaz8HM8XuFyBLH6NtsbtJxRrP6aHyuhyvE2RFw0_Fu_ngPCSNivhcdcIyJUS6NtwNgbFL6Y4bYc6m-nT/s320/DSC10000+%28231%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_X-bgI28W-_OEGtM6IXUOlsqAmGCvSokubqZaHCNicxLT8az2U-KA9yt6NvWAOgK7hyH1O7VUjGYhQWUJ6ZXhs_elTxesqCxV3jZBTxU9leHTnZHBiUkn1DRxT-6lwSFWyAdHdfP9AsL/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28254%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167667209342162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_X-bgI28W-_OEGtM6IXUOlsqAmGCvSokubqZaHCNicxLT8az2U-KA9yt6NvWAOgK7hyH1O7VUjGYhQWUJ6ZXhs_elTxesqCxV3jZBTxU9leHTnZHBiUkn1DRxT-6lwSFWyAdHdfP9AsL/s320/DSC10000+%28254%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZiSc8akHq8HSKwkrYyVtKBetTHxRzrwoGvHNHu-RlfhI-8yiAQ6QPzd279tYO0UxWje-05iFPTg-6fEUaHY7mJrpDzRGCDUX9bluArO_cVf78Joj6N9FJx37IojWEHPyBavNzUSVbiUi/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28241%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167920905888482" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZiSc8akHq8HSKwkrYyVtKBetTHxRzrwoGvHNHu-RlfhI-8yiAQ6QPzd279tYO0UxWje-05iFPTg-6fEUaHY7mJrpDzRGCDUX9bluArO_cVf78Joj6N9FJx37IojWEHPyBavNzUSVbiUi/s320/DSC10000+%28241%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5s25QRjyRo19jIkuVXx8H7pqQQK2jeKnMtYVP4hw6-5wRwVkLIkGSU6DMEkkeSGXsz4xM24JVhbXNjITvXpUSInoP18vj4tah3iQMjW2HMQ9GCR2mcNR9F4tYDUVSMQfRIkMXNX0MakUK/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28246%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167655438008690" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5s25QRjyRo19jIkuVXx8H7pqQQK2jeKnMtYVP4hw6-5wRwVkLIkGSU6DMEkkeSGXsz4xM24JVhbXNjITvXpUSInoP18vj4tah3iQMjW2HMQ9GCR2mcNR9F4tYDUVSMQfRIkMXNX0MakUK/s320/DSC10000+%28246%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUOVM38ojimlp0YEhAmU_JGIfK_nSMilTDqAznqgB8Rnss1u7zPmxIXH3SbTRhBzm40e4f0ECMzd5B5pgSajWk7_Tm1ao7OJI9joRj9YjGzTap6Z868Y2hIrwdf1ArFzlCkckiJWOKpus-/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28243%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167928122792274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUOVM38ojimlp0YEhAmU_JGIfK_nSMilTDqAznqgB8Rnss1u7zPmxIXH3SbTRhBzm40e4f0ECMzd5B5pgSajWk7_Tm1ao7OJI9joRj9YjGzTap6Z868Y2hIrwdf1ArFzlCkckiJWOKpus-/s320/DSC10000+%28243%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwMZ1EMoaA0HFoLSDc52B36_CTB4lUsVPsD-RSRT9tHcI04_ot6SsSqhRkG46E9lIi0mwUBzuO6fxc2_XVDUYJF9RqonBP2Ele5lHHNxczTidYkCgpW0xktLab5-W0aXLnrRMvI25tLwT/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28265%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167683972814402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwMZ1EMoaA0HFoLSDc52B36_CTB4lUsVPsD-RSRT9tHcI04_ot6SsSqhRkG46E9lIi0mwUBzuO6fxc2_XVDUYJF9RqonBP2Ele5lHHNxczTidYkCgpW0xktLab5-W0aXLnrRMvI25tLwT/s320/DSC10000+%28265%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I sat on the edge of the fort and read my book, and took lots of photos looking out over the city below. (pics: the Blue City stretches out from the palace in all directions, myself looking out over the side of the fort's wall, looking directly on the network of streets below, myself and the Blue City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjcwmx7kTCgkNX_T7lVn8R4EkeT6YoZgkiU2_q6LeQmUYwgzxZ56S6guzBeBs69WbITQpyjibqhg9sUfqd6zvhhsUcdGX8YRKuKky76_KKWrjZcAAdd6r8bGPKwo8LBCd_VqRBcZhpJMwc/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28269%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167352859411010" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjcwmx7kTCgkNX_T7lVn8R4EkeT6YoZgkiU2_q6LeQmUYwgzxZ56S6guzBeBs69WbITQpyjibqhg9sUfqd6zvhhsUcdGX8YRKuKky76_KKWrjZcAAdd6r8bGPKwo8LBCd_VqRBcZhpJMwc/s320/DSC10000+%28269%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1qfzRnYF3SJuOK4FtHPQVqsiKUDwlONbf7Sai3HyuqLsXYkT19CmjjAgCor3MjjX3JXmH0sFeVla2Tbif2i7VcEEziSBzVXzcGB3Iqc3z7IjRR9USG1Q2QKIzUlHbD4ermY4Xb86BguU/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28237%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167921101853730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1qfzRnYF3SJuOK4FtHPQVqsiKUDwlONbf7Sai3HyuqLsXYkT19CmjjAgCor3MjjX3JXmH0sFeVla2Tbif2i7VcEEziSBzVXzcGB3Iqc3z7IjRR9USG1Q2QKIzUlHbD4ermY4Xb86BguU/s320/DSC10000+%28237%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcQHs6WyavdbBv5I1yGQKwebQnRffxKTO8hvOdQUCTB_1LE6VZPzs9Mt6PhMNRdaRKRttQkC2ErWyieuWh-GV2P59qJpYhaDKPpgW-0_kFSu_llG5HAX8lLZNrSkm1on0T62pNIHZbjx3/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28264%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167681332336834" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcQHs6WyavdbBv5I1yGQKwebQnRffxKTO8hvOdQUCTB_1LE6VZPzs9Mt6PhMNRdaRKRttQkC2ErWyieuWh-GV2P59qJpYhaDKPpgW-0_kFSu_llG5HAX8lLZNrSkm1on0T62pNIHZbjx3/s320/DSC10000+%28264%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAdc6cinyT4AtrmhnBkENYbWYjVzYx0pQY53DTmdd5tU7WLTeATjEKWUd9keCbmkLws44JytOKQOqI452XZJa7tmECRseJdvbPm0s5X62LnQsU7mvC5AoKw_Yit3_j8TsocYkbFSBMRtin/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28258%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167672178893954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAdc6cinyT4AtrmhnBkENYbWYjVzYx0pQY53DTmdd5tU7WLTeATjEKWUd9keCbmkLws44JytOKQOqI452XZJa7tmECRseJdvbPm0s5X62LnQsU7mvC5AoKw_Yit3_j8TsocYkbFSBMRtin/s320/DSC10000+%28258%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After leaving the fort, I meandered the city streets aimlessly, just trying to see what I’d see. While on my walk, lots of kids came up to me to say “Hello”. (pics: man riding through the streets of Jodhpur with propane tanks strapped to his bike, one of many blue streets in Jodhpur)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuEZCFPagoVEU6WxqJAnjUGtumvnBrSsBY-PAHGAoj_Gv1AhkT2d7OsPx4nrX34QA8GieqMbDM3FJSwzRmoR4rpGwcmbOgW1Bgwveh-AmOMjZKXqW0nqsanzpnACFuybPBLA03nnsrdjN/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28272%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167364188457986" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuEZCFPagoVEU6WxqJAnjUGtumvnBrSsBY-PAHGAoj_Gv1AhkT2d7OsPx4nrX34QA8GieqMbDM3FJSwzRmoR4rpGwcmbOgW1Bgwveh-AmOMjZKXqW0nqsanzpnACFuybPBLA03nnsrdjN/s320/DSC10000+%28272%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBvvcg7KzTh_JmCPrO0YjWE0F7jJB3VdO5A6uhmRyGItJCwxTns6N86KBJCfrL79FiIqPKy0M6fGzkrZRJ8uyd2jKQokOKuArQH_7qIxltoEKkVFQUTHZiEWx1afyF0G4OzQf3ONCwYe4/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28270%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167356464237826" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBvvcg7KzTh_JmCPrO0YjWE0F7jJB3VdO5A6uhmRyGItJCwxTns6N86KBJCfrL79FiIqPKy0M6fGzkrZRJ8uyd2jKQokOKuArQH_7qIxltoEKkVFQUTHZiEWx1afyF0G4OzQf3ONCwYe4/s320/DSC10000+%28270%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I came upon a temple built atop a rock spire. I had seen it from the distance, and had wondered what it was. Some guys saw me looking at it, and asked if I wanted to go up. Of course I would. So two of them brought me to it, unlocked the gate, and we climbed up. The view over the city and towards the fort was nice, but they ruined it by asking for a donation of Rs 500, a ridiculous amount. At first I pretended I didn’t hear them, but they asked again a few minutes later, and this time I told them they were ridiculous. They really wanted US money, but I had none of that either. So beyond my Indian rupees I had only my Bangladeshi Taka. That didn’t suffice for them. I climbed down, and at the bottom they asked again for the money. I said sure I’ll give Rs10 and I’ll put it in the donation box. Nope they wanted it in their hands. I refused, and put in the box. This angered them and they went and locked the gate, saying they wouldn’t open it until I gave them more money. Fine I said, I’ll stay in here all day, I have nothing else to do. I finally raised my voice and yelled how they can’t expect Rs 500 from me for something they offered to do. When they realized I wasn’t budging, they settled that I should give them my Bangladeshi Taka. Sure I said, and handed them over the Tk5 and Tk1 coins I had. I don’t think they knew how little those were worth. (pics: temple on top of a rock spire, writing on the rock "Jai baba ri" spire midway up and the city in the back ground, the view from the top of the ladder to Jodhpur's fort, the two guys who insisted I pay them Rs 500 for seeing the temple on the rock spire's ladder)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQTtPLy83rLOiElwOy-uYVeBk1UbLUTW7wmGJTcq_NzkL0OAADkIxLmw_mb1gTRPq1faIqcb4Y-2M6-UK-4BpA9WWswy5vMiiL3q8zsiXiLAHV4Zi-5zcTCoOqGa3tpvK9CJMxjIpeNXM/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28275%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167374678901426" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQTtPLy83rLOiElwOy-uYVeBk1UbLUTW7wmGJTcq_NzkL0OAADkIxLmw_mb1gTRPq1faIqcb4Y-2M6-UK-4BpA9WWswy5vMiiL3q8zsiXiLAHV4Zi-5zcTCoOqGa3tpvK9CJMxjIpeNXM/s320/DSC10000+%28275%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhleDW5SeLffedUaLxFPWBRE8mER3rBpeBX5UJ0MEyaFAV4R5zwtvyHrbGCeDenmN0jlfgNqjmfo0T7tnAArUe-OIdEiidhAbLEuQhF3Xsl7Rf1GTy1WddscHAP5BkCLZHZw9jIa2WeuX/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28280%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167075982416002" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhleDW5SeLffedUaLxFPWBRE8mER3rBpeBX5UJ0MEyaFAV4R5zwtvyHrbGCeDenmN0jlfgNqjmfo0T7tnAArUe-OIdEiidhAbLEuQhF3Xsl7Rf1GTy1WddscHAP5BkCLZHZw9jIa2WeuX/s320/DSC10000+%28280%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-gDCl1YqP1DKYczc2IT3AERH9HWFrPHd6uyxmmxNSSE6IBylgIObwoRFeCl__Lt4PPDEuNd3bYP59xD2EJAWJ_6qsup89t6CWxqiESQGEycffYLoLA9xT0cJbd2IrUWXrLC54sTzrjsv/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28277%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167378465988738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-gDCl1YqP1DKYczc2IT3AERH9HWFrPHd6uyxmmxNSSE6IBylgIObwoRFeCl__Lt4PPDEuNd3bYP59xD2EJAWJ_6qsup89t6CWxqiESQGEycffYLoLA9xT0cJbd2IrUWXrLC54sTzrjsv/s320/DSC10000+%28277%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NCCoDWCxalQ82CBLo1EM8D0uvw7fUbt116v_aeCi5_i780A2n718hcojpkratGawVyGM9MN-38LZ1COg9a0H31a26ipxeAWWRyp1JRJd1UA0FitLzNkMAFIGGiqtEQK6yiZVaPcxVXdj/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28281%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167083527956754" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NCCoDWCxalQ82CBLo1EM8D0uvw7fUbt116v_aeCi5_i780A2n718hcojpkratGawVyGM9MN-38LZ1COg9a0H31a26ipxeAWWRyp1JRJd1UA0FitLzNkMAFIGGiqtEQK6yiZVaPcxVXdj/s320/DSC10000+%28281%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I found the city gate and climbed onto the city wall. One guy said I couldn’t go up there, another insisted I could. I listened to second guy. I roamed some more and came upon the central square with the clocktower. I found a spice shop and was called in by the owner. Although I wasn’t going to buy anything, I sat down to talk anyway. I think they realized I wasn’t buying. I stayed for about an hour, and ended up talking politics. (pics: one of the city gates in the city wall, the fort seen from the top of the city wall, the clocktower in the middle of Jodhpur's Blue City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPaoSrerKMQS8td6fnvT-CWJYUjCc6Zct4HmpeWg_a3TU2xpwwkiRyICwhv-adNLCIXhXEZmtV2qlcXjfqeHITq883-MwI7DvgS3h2x9fLA975zeBaAZ5w3XcwxI1wdmC4k6sbGqwHU-c/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28286%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167086150938002" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPaoSrerKMQS8td6fnvT-CWJYUjCc6Zct4HmpeWg_a3TU2xpwwkiRyICwhv-adNLCIXhXEZmtV2qlcXjfqeHITq883-MwI7DvgS3h2x9fLA975zeBaAZ5w3XcwxI1wdmC4k6sbGqwHU-c/s320/DSC10000+%28286%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezMw80mtjYF5OBw7MoviyVJZYfXwKsN5aY9-Veaz4tQtqhFUbKDJE1Jz0-mpc4Ie6XNW7yCXlOIOBCNCBHL5cuFcRDBgT4Oh65svwt0lBZgeW47PRL6ex5JGpL31gxZJ5Q5YWsqbJhyphenhyphenRg/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28293%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167091271056818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezMw80mtjYF5OBw7MoviyVJZYfXwKsN5aY9-Veaz4tQtqhFUbKDJE1Jz0-mpc4Ie6XNW7yCXlOIOBCNCBHL5cuFcRDBgT4Oh65svwt0lBZgeW47PRL6ex5JGpL31gxZJ5Q5YWsqbJhyphenhyphenRg/s320/DSC10000+%28293%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R2JuCNp4Wl-J6hlH3dsxsAgubGRiKEJ2ffmNfBd2_kLNWp3uRSRxWl8pBLIeFlJLcBG6srMEnIPJfWne1gC_ljkqYVecP7OjvYMEECv8wp7sCCSnb68_Sm9V5qT2BW1QYp3sPtgW7fVP/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28297%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277167097172627058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1R2JuCNp4Wl-J6hlH3dsxsAgubGRiKEJ2ffmNfBd2_kLNWp3uRSRxWl8pBLIeFlJLcBG6srMEnIPJfWne1gC_ljkqYVecP7OjvYMEECv8wp7sCCSnb68_Sm9V5qT2BW1QYp3sPtgW7fVP/s320/DSC10000+%28297%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I went to dinner at some hotel, and the hotel owner told me he had just opened the place. I asked why there were so many pictures of himself on the wall, and he said he just wrapped up his career as a model, and those were his many photos shoots. He had a big bushy mustache and looked like a stereotypical old Bollywood good guy actor. He did not lack in pride. Bad part of the restaurant was sitting down and two other guys leaving telling me “the pasta is not good” just after I’d ordered. (pic: view over a part of Jodhpur towards the fort from where I ate dinner in the evening)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2s4pV-X1-Xs1xjMPvujzniEIlz_mG5cMHYpkvmxGLU5ZH5fy8-ejh-kvH9Qunc2usBJXUhBB5iUzZvZfVGT9ZHxQaES1hLmAmuVTbqtUdPuV8w6c9wpK5keCrr0NJ2XdWsm-DGVqfv2k/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28306%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277166221129890098" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2s4pV-X1-Xs1xjMPvujzniEIlz_mG5cMHYpkvmxGLU5ZH5fy8-ejh-kvH9Qunc2usBJXUhBB5iUzZvZfVGT9ZHxQaES1hLmAmuVTbqtUdPuV8w6c9wpK5keCrr0NJ2XdWsm-DGVqfv2k/s320/DSC10000+%28306%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />55th-5th on train to Bikaner 9/21</strong><br /><br />Although I would’ve liked to have a night train to Bikaner, it just wasn’t possible. So I had booked a day train from Jodhpur to get me in to Bikaner by the afternoon. My camel safari was the next day, and I could use today to relax.<br /><br />I got on the train and no one was on it. Everyone had seemed to get off at Jodhpur, despite the train continuing on another 6 hours. I sat down and had a whole compartment to myself.<br />The desert passing by was pretty incredible. It was the least dense I’d seen in India. On the train I finished Angels and Demons (pics: myself in the empty train cabin, the Rajasthan desert as our train drove past, our train passing through the desert, a little boy selling ice cream on an empty desert road)<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdM_jNonj1-51wfQPAVI0sFu_05DSNgvfyA0hZKMjr7-CxIrTKx_PZzazOA9m8k1rcadEBVCF2bbU_6Q2GZFLHKdduQaeUIxaupUfxFA3boZdGEp-V_2CMUtB-pc2V7P6NC7h7_uTsW7ow/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28309%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277166229201123602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdM_jNonj1-51wfQPAVI0sFu_05DSNgvfyA0hZKMjr7-CxIrTKx_PZzazOA9m8k1rcadEBVCF2bbU_6Q2GZFLHKdduQaeUIxaupUfxFA3boZdGEp-V_2CMUtB-pc2V7P6NC7h7_uTsW7ow/s320/DSC10000+%28309%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk4geCHTuHYP0z1wF7r_QaRUL6S43cvbSrO7MYvTyGaI1XJ3MwoxXsldtdvPSa0eBo7UfcOb0CYbG34hou2Xr5Q_b0raV3IhjIPj0rqDOLRn-KF_BOBr3g1pOkDmuwuNYBW9i1sbGvIw-/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28319%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277166232016097042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk4geCHTuHYP0z1wF7r_QaRUL6S43cvbSrO7MYvTyGaI1XJ3MwoxXsldtdvPSa0eBo7UfcOb0CYbG34hou2Xr5Q_b0raV3IhjIPj0rqDOLRn-KF_BOBr3g1pOkDmuwuNYBW9i1sbGvIw-/s320/DSC10000+%28319%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gh6Ie9mvxrIZVTxjaUe7Apyrv5IHr-ftmxBvH2ZURJoIxA-hh7Pj9X0zC4P5jEqQNZIn-8jLzXKYZKafpf14h4SEVf2TfF2OMF0NaF0gwk9Bml0ZmRmhSdgHUIEuzkGosxCoxSn9jVrB/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28320%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277166247132750290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gh6Ie9mvxrIZVTxjaUe7Apyrv5IHr-ftmxBvH2ZURJoIxA-hh7Pj9X0zC4P5jEqQNZIn-8jLzXKYZKafpf14h4SEVf2TfF2OMF0NaF0gwk9Bml0ZmRmhSdgHUIEuzkGosxCoxSn9jVrB/s320/DSC10000+%28320%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_aXvFAgMjIoL8dAqHXY4CvyxlxqVbfOJGc5Y6jINl7S7sXTI7u7WVQ853qcRsNhZIrvAdb1V7dyQ3BzB4bmygvdrvtTJgOatJziXaicnIrRZUbTkPyQlA0xssn9xKvi-nJpGfY9N9Fnd/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28323%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277166253716773842" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_aXvFAgMjIoL8dAqHXY4CvyxlxqVbfOJGc5Y6jINl7S7sXTI7u7WVQ853qcRsNhZIrvAdb1V7dyQ3BzB4bmygvdrvtTJgOatJziXaicnIrRZUbTkPyQlA0xssn9xKvi-nJpGfY9N9Fnd/s320/DSC10000+%28323%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Apparently on my train as well was the <a href="http://saregamapashow.com/2007/07/raja-hasan-from-bikaner-genuine-singer.html">winner of a recent Indian Idol-like contest</a>. He is from Bikaner. When we arrived, a huge crowd was waiting for him, and put garlands around his neck. They carried him on their shoulders and brought him to a waiting car. Huge crowds cheered him, and TV crews filmed his arrival. They drove off in song. That night on TV I saw the footage from his arrival. (pics: Bikaner welcoming home their superstar at the train station, footage on TV that evening)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRbvvZt3HpF_dVGMhhRDMtmwoTXdON5lMkNAh8l3dWETXLh3UKc4LBLnL1v7XPhRrZ4Cgj5q_-fP8UvOSv1Yok3dLcoPJcQf7omrZhHnzT5WQXiVd_e34UtzsdreSORZzMOG-8TA_Ko49/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28331%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165927701197202" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRbvvZt3HpF_dVGMhhRDMtmwoTXdON5lMkNAh8l3dWETXLh3UKc4LBLnL1v7XPhRrZ4Cgj5q_-fP8UvOSv1Yok3dLcoPJcQf7omrZhHnzT5WQXiVd_e34UtzsdreSORZzMOG-8TA_Ko49/s320/DSC10000+%28331%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HpYoMKAQqEZvr3ktEyCZcyVdQSlwy1UADlFyQDVUDtpbQaOKdOin5BykOdTm129MKGJdCxqPqusPxcNzBjtPmgw40TB7ziWoPF9yxLRjFyVS7tvrAIiOUQ5OD9BfnrpTItc4CaRggeIt/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28342%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165936965990290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HpYoMKAQqEZvr3ktEyCZcyVdQSlwy1UADlFyQDVUDtpbQaOKdOin5BykOdTm129MKGJdCxqPqusPxcNzBjtPmgw40TB7ziWoPF9yxLRjFyVS7tvrAIiOUQ5OD9BfnrpTItc4CaRggeIt/s320/DSC10000+%28342%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Arriving at the guesthouse, I was welcomed by the <a href="http://www.camelman.com/">Camel Man</a>’s wife. She was very friendly, but was the deliverer of bad news that no one had signed up for my tour except me, meaning I have to pay an extra Rs 400 to go, to cover costs. I was upset that I would be alone, and that I’d have to pay money for that, but decided to go anyway, as I’d never have a chance at this again.<br /><br />To use the internet at a store nearby, I had to give my passport. They said it is because they are worried about terrorists, due to recent terrorist attacks in India, and they are doing this region wide to curb terrorist activities.<br /><br /><strong>55th-6th in Bikaner 9/22</strong><br /><br />Today was the camel ride and although I’d be going alone, I was very excited for it. After a breakfast where I even got to have pomegranate, I headed out by jeep to the camels. My guide was there, and he would be with me all day. He spoke limited English, so it ended up being quite quiet. But that was okay.<br /><br />The desert itself was very quiet, not even any wind. I was surprised at the lack of noise. The silence at times was really deafening, I could hear it ringing in my ears. I realized that I should have worn long pants on the camel, as I got several ticks while riding on it and had to flick those off. We walked quietly through the desert. Stopped so the camel and the guide could get more water. Saw a peacock in a tree. (pics: my typical view from the top of the camel, myself on my camel during the tour, shadown of myself and the camel, camels grazing on the side of the path)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_ktQZkKJxpHqIiZs9jThL_GeCXss6FLSXUqmMR2NPtlgjXyFqnWWMEMun9mnnW6apou4iX-lGi81fnjrgmy1d4I1dVprIl0Zs9fQiXXOH4ki3Dgcnzh1WbXvgDaU17JkNIgKyicnd2a/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28366%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165647502987954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_ktQZkKJxpHqIiZs9jThL_GeCXss6FLSXUqmMR2NPtlgjXyFqnWWMEMun9mnnW6apou4iX-lGi81fnjrgmy1d4I1dVprIl0Zs9fQiXXOH4ki3Dgcnzh1WbXvgDaU17JkNIgKyicnd2a/s320/DSC10000+%28366%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0BhlyMNlPGGPyqPZvceCRLvqZwE4-V8h5H50QUaMBkYVDqcyKrfBYwgbVfjLzsP_HRz6V14u1eo3yTvoH2Z3bmUYiplZLgdNfyzbo5z1e_aERcsFWAPS6Phc3undlB_nJoZ5-RdLxN4k/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28381%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165660100207442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0BhlyMNlPGGPyqPZvceCRLvqZwE4-V8h5H50QUaMBkYVDqcyKrfBYwgbVfjLzsP_HRz6V14u1eo3yTvoH2Z3bmUYiplZLgdNfyzbo5z1e_aERcsFWAPS6Phc3undlB_nJoZ5-RdLxN4k/s320/DSC10000+%28381%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GATZXxGbhDG1zb1wY78ZGFEp6JohvLOWrdrR5RSN_lEVWqP3Eh5xl-BW0djI3GCQ7uAZLPN-sQjY65TOoiRxyS4tZIY4cSiRMJzI3xq-ITKiCfbW4aP1Tsh-ktBR0gSpaaZz1_4YmaVJ/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28348%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165940050258610" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GATZXxGbhDG1zb1wY78ZGFEp6JohvLOWrdrR5RSN_lEVWqP3Eh5xl-BW0djI3GCQ7uAZLPN-sQjY65TOoiRxyS4tZIY4cSiRMJzI3xq-ITKiCfbW4aP1Tsh-ktBR0gSpaaZz1_4YmaVJ/s320/DSC10000+%28348%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYMLlsrCXi-SAxG5qb3hN9JPkf4uaZJZxydbkLZMbu4CKsZQ-VX167HrFEej_XjQsisx2A_FGJw2WB_JtGd7-Hrh4zcRl4fgX_m4vgGDTzraOQPp3eaJ2OgsFldo0eLia5w5zDn1xTA7u/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28356%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165945733906786" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYMLlsrCXi-SAxG5qb3hN9JPkf4uaZJZxydbkLZMbu4CKsZQ-VX167HrFEej_XjQsisx2A_FGJw2WB_JtGd7-Hrh4zcRl4fgX_m4vgGDTzraOQPp3eaJ2OgsFldo0eLia5w5zDn1xTA7u/s320/DSC10000+%28356%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />For lunch my guesthouse had prepared a lunch and put it in a metal stacked lunchbox, the typical system of South Asia, and my first time eating with one. It was tasty, but I surely couldn’t eat it all. My guide gave me some of his lunch, which was spicy lady’s fingers, but wasn’t as spicy as he claimed. We sat there under a tree in the heat of the day resting. Drank lots of water. We were quite a way away from the camel which he had let roam and eat, with a rope around its front legs so it can’t walk fast or far. Some cow herder came by and sat with us for awhile and chatted with my guide, not sure if they knew each other.<br />We napped there under the tree. I only realize now that he could’ve left me there napping in the middle of the desert.<br /><br />When we awoke, he went off to get our camel. All of a sudden I see him running far far away. After a minute or so I realize he can’t find it. I see him going out into the distance, but I don’t see a thing. He’s looking back and forth. Uh oh. I went and helped look in the other direction, but didn’t see a thing. Finally I see him following a pack of camels, pelting one, ours, with stones. I could tell he was cursing at it, or at least I would be. Finally after he managed to get our camel away from the pack, he grabbed it by its rope and brought it back. He told me that the camel had found “some camel friends” and went to hang out. He seemed humorous but still pissed. Doesn’t happen every time he said. (pics: my guide (in the red circle) running off into the distance to find the camel, my guide and the camel after he recaptured it)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiES5Dg0IGaeeVZ0m8cPxuySJKx40tyW06-0qlk4YqrT2WHU43VNaY5r1q4-0quOb3xxq_wTNZ_TWTxqriVWA6FfMcDkxhmXzZSPs4aWAH_LX45n44MSYFj528Y7LGqeONhr1nBJuOfBqas/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28373%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165658766739570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiES5Dg0IGaeeVZ0m8cPxuySJKx40tyW06-0qlk4YqrT2WHU43VNaY5r1q4-0quOb3xxq_wTNZ_TWTxqriVWA6FfMcDkxhmXzZSPs4aWAH_LX45n44MSYFj528Y7LGqeONhr1nBJuOfBqas/s320/DSC10000+%28373%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOk6KjKUXxSpOdp7jkHoZXRGQDIkUfB1niPlkTggaxMqPZztS51_VQrm9aMX_p6-wsUOOEgKujBYUv6EHi7HFBJS_ZFLuzaVkLxT6PQMOFqGRB2mo3bge6JP4qq5EusBapFiojTtsKPBH/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28369%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165651423735314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOk6KjKUXxSpOdp7jkHoZXRGQDIkUfB1niPlkTggaxMqPZztS51_VQrm9aMX_p6-wsUOOEgKujBYUv6EHi7HFBJS_ZFLuzaVkLxT6PQMOFqGRB2mo3bge6JP4qq5EusBapFiojTtsKPBH/s320/DSC10000+%28369%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Overall I felt the camel walked slower than I thought it would. It was quite hot all day long, and in the silence I had lots of time to think. A storm approached later, and the wind picked up. Luckily it never rained.<br /><br />I showered in the guesthouse’s owner’s shower, and waited until it was time to leave for the train. Talked to the wife again, she wanted me to buy dinner but I was out of money. At the train station I sought out some snacks on the nearby main road, and waited. Some young boy came to talk to me, about high school age. He spoke to me in Hindi and I did my best to understand. We looked at the train list and he pointed out there were other foreigners on the train. Low and behold, I was sharing a cabin with them. They were a group of Spaniards, and we talked for about an hour before finally settling into our bunks. I was off to my last stop of Jaipur<br /><br /><strong>55th-7th in Jaipur 9/23</strong><br /><br />The train arrived at about 6 AM. We got off and us foreigners were hassled nonstop about hotels. I started walking out of the station area and into the city to find a hotel. Meanwhile the touts from the platform followed me. One tout asked where I come from, and I said Bangladesh. Doubting me, he said he was also from Bangladesh. But his demeanor changed when I believed him and excitedly in Bengali asked him from which district. We instantly started talking about Bangladesh, alienating all the Hindi speakers also trailing us. Because he was Bangladeshi, I felt a connection with him, and said I would go to the hotel he wanted to take me to (after bargaining about the price of course.)<br />The hotel was decent, and I really think that the touts aren’t always trying to scam you, just trying to get hotels not in guidebooks to have a tourist actually show up.<br /><br />I had a train to catch to Delhi in the evening. I would arrive there, take a taxi to the airport, spend the night there for a few hours, and fly out early back to Kolkata.<br /><br />After going out and unsuccessfully finding currency exchange, I ate breakfast and checked my email. Got some bad news, my flight from Delhi to Kolkata at 5 AM tomorrow on Indigo Airlines was cancelled, and they had put me on the evening flight. Didn’t know what to do. I would miss my bus back to Bangladesh in Kolkata by several hours!<br /><br />I was very nervous that I may not get a ticket on another flight, but I decided my best option would be to buy a new ticket on another budget airline when I arrived at Delhi airport at night. I would have to deal with having to buying a second ticket and losing money. With that goal, I set out to exchange some money again and go see the city. This was not a good situation.<br /><br />In my walk, I passed by all the airline booking offices. I saw the IndiGo one, so I went in and asked if my flight could be refunded because I can’t take it. The guy said they don’t handle Indigo anymore, just hadn’t taken the sign down yet. Oy vey. He refused to help or answer my questions.<br />Frustrated, I went downstairs to exchange, and the exchange guy informed me that he also sells plane tickets. I asked if he could help and he set to work trying to solve my situation. He called IndiGo for me, and found out I can be refunded because they caused the issue. Together we canceled it, and looked for a replacement flight which he could help book. We found a flight on JetLite, but he needed both my passport and cash to get it. I had neither on me as I had not intended to be doing this so quickly.<br />It took me 30 minutes to go back to my hotel, get these, and come back. He told me where I could find an ATM, but when I looked it wasn’t there. He sent his friend with me, and we found it. But it wouldn’t take my card. Had to find another. It worked. We went back to buy the ticket. He went to the website, and uh oh, the price had gone up 30% in those 40 minutes. I was stunned. I had had this all figured out, and was not going to lose any money on it all, and now in those 40 min since we had seen the ticket, the price had gone up. I was upset. Berated myself for not just buying the ticket online when I had gone back to my hotel. I had come back to him to buy because he’d been so nice before. I had to go out and get more money. But now that ATM was out of cash. Searched for another and it took two tries before I found one that took my card.<br />Now we tried booking with the more expensive price, but it didn’t work. JetLite was not functioning online.<br />We decided a change in plan was necessary. We scrapped the idea of going back to Delhi, and looked into direct flights from Jaipur to Kolkata. There was one the next morning for not too much more money. We went with it. We bought it. I would be missing my 10 AM bus in Kolkata, and would have to try and get a new ticket on the last bus of the day at 1 PM over the phone. As well I’d have to cancel my train ticket to Delhi or be out 700 rupees.<br />I was angry. My last day in India and all my plans had toppled horribly. In hindsight, I should not have gone back to his office, and just bought the ticket online. It could’ve been so much easier.<br /><br />I grabbed an autorickshaw and went to go cancel the train ticket. My ticket said I had to arrive 4 hours beforehand to cancel, and I was going to make it by a few minutes. There was a roadblock for construction, so I had to get out and walk the rest of the way. Now I’d be late. At the station, they told me something different. I could only cancel after 4pm, and it was only 2 PM. Had to wait. It seemed I would never actually get to see Jaipur now. I tried one more option, the foreign tourist desk, but they only directed me back to the place that told me 4 o’ clock. In the meantime, I called the bus company in Kolkata and asked them change my ticket to the 1 PM bus for tomorrow. Whether they understood me or not I didn’t know. It was a big question mark. I would find out tomorrow for sure if they’d understood who I really was and if they’d changed it.<br />This whole time at the train station I was hassled by autorickshaw and taxi drivers. Frustrated, at 3:30 I went back to cancel the train ticket, and this time they let me. Different guy at the desk. Got 75% of my ticket price back.<br /><br />Now with the headaches over, I was ready to finally see Jaipur. Having limited time, I made a goal to just see Jantar Mantar, ancient observatory in Jaipur. Thought it was completely unique to the city. Guide book said it looked like you were in Alice in Wonderland. The authors were right.<br />This observatory is from the Mughal period, built in the 1700s. It has the largest sundial in the world. It was incredible how big the place was, and the size of the equipment too. I was blown away. The work they performed there involved such complex calculations and measurements of the heavens. Really made me appreciate what was possible with trigonometry and a strong grasp of math. Oh, and an a strong love of astrology.<br />I had a guide give me the 30 minute tour. I couldn’t imagine seeing the place without it. Nothing would make sense. He was incredibly knowledgeable about the whole place, and was able to explain the tough concepts, and answer my detailed questions. Many times I had him repeat his explanations so I could understand.<br />Apparently I also had come to Jantar Mantar on the autumn solstice. What that meant is that some of the equipment, which act differently on the solstice, were doing as such. One piece of equipment is oriented in such a way that amongst other information it tells the angle of the sun, but today both sides were in shadow because the sun is between the two hemispheres. 363 days a year the equipment can be used, but today, the dual sided instrument was completely in shadow, the sun’s rays perfectly missing it. I felt pretty lucky to come here on this rare day. I felt my friend Saket should come here, he would love it. (pics: one of the many astronomical devices at Jaipur's Jantar Mantar, myself in front of the largest sundial in the world, Jantar Mantar's many astronoical devices look like a fantasy land, this one did not work on the day I was there as the sun does not shine on either side during the solstice...the day I went)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqNXmvvSDomD40YznYSV4XkfgH4wVda_YdpHVwpAGkNQSU3coFDqNAOvUMG-NMtyhz5JPmj1cgTuoZqv0tL1ycttHuH04AX-NnD8vJ-gRUZWNZyCijcuaOnKhyGqDwuxQ1EhdDJSWI9Uf/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28418%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165395919955986" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqNXmvvSDomD40YznYSV4XkfgH4wVda_YdpHVwpAGkNQSU3coFDqNAOvUMG-NMtyhz5JPmj1cgTuoZqv0tL1ycttHuH04AX-NnD8vJ-gRUZWNZyCijcuaOnKhyGqDwuxQ1EhdDJSWI9Uf/s320/DSC10000+%28418%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWgJdNtHoEOFztoSI_OpQrRejoalvWCc1Xe_rEO9P4s2el6UOdlkUXSnLF6CCWCPSk2CsRZaeotGYrt3JU4hO4xsaFRItg_FN1t0phvFDVKug7mOygpyFZsy2AXr3U6pA2xSLTpt1Zb_0/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28412%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165398880005810" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWgJdNtHoEOFztoSI_OpQrRejoalvWCc1Xe_rEO9P4s2el6UOdlkUXSnLF6CCWCPSk2CsRZaeotGYrt3JU4hO4xsaFRItg_FN1t0phvFDVKug7mOygpyFZsy2AXr3U6pA2xSLTpt1Zb_0/s320/DSC10000+%28412%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7GsEEVgpXlztOV8_HH-R-8thIb2CnsXclJE-baA1zz7Mgn8itYsWKH4z4TAU_7CzLb8yAvZq2UKhcoOHowVhOmZQP6LLhCLV86SaP8drmcPM5KglVvRqGMjdQogzw-1CtIRS-y60iGG3/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28423%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165401383985938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7GsEEVgpXlztOV8_HH-R-8thIb2CnsXclJE-baA1zz7Mgn8itYsWKH4z4TAU_7CzLb8yAvZq2UKhcoOHowVhOmZQP6LLhCLV86SaP8drmcPM5KglVvRqGMjdQogzw-1CtIRS-y60iGG3/s320/DSC10000+%28423%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqP1iQ2HHmNjbUFa0zQ3mbevqH2ezjF0evKGkfJ7t02mhh9jWYS2_7Fr4BM_ZJDfxjmo-LpibYHBsPlmVbstiDrmuz1bUVeAWyVFrV-CqKy3fOlPN9lwrP6oDyNQF2zhUvF-etO4DqhjDh/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28405%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165666405467026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqP1iQ2HHmNjbUFa0zQ3mbevqH2ezjF0evKGkfJ7t02mhh9jWYS2_7Fr4BM_ZJDfxjmo-LpibYHBsPlmVbstiDrmuz1bUVeAWyVFrV-CqKy3fOlPN9lwrP6oDyNQF2zhUvF-etO4DqhjDh/s320/DSC10000+%28405%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was hoping to catch good views of Jaipur, famous for being the Pink City (Also from my junior year of college report) but there was no place to really see it like there was in Jodhpur. I tried a nice rooftop restaurant for a good view, and to treat myself to a late lunch. No views, you could tell it was pink, but couldn’t appreciate it. I also couldn’t decide between the Mughlai biryani and the pizza, so I got both. (pics: after the stressful I treated myself to a good meal, the Pink City of Jaipur...but I could not find a good place to view pink color at its best)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDjSbM8W8MqJ2v6nicJu3vuHIjb3YaGiTq_HwWDCp9g5PooaiijQH4RUbR5_LYQOydeAxYjBRqqkPDuGi26P7t5GJjlItAmC-c4w9UJ5vItH5ZVvJdzdfjnnVW_CEo3wwmOvcgXZKREZb/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28430%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165416799205410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDjSbM8W8MqJ2v6nicJu3vuHIjb3YaGiTq_HwWDCp9g5PooaiijQH4RUbR5_LYQOydeAxYjBRqqkPDuGi26P7t5GJjlItAmC-c4w9UJ5vItH5ZVvJdzdfjnnVW_CEo3wwmOvcgXZKREZb/s320/DSC10000+%28430%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCyHlzW2JCPRZfv763ZJ2dvhbbTaJvo_Was7ErifdJuJA5xINkS9rZOFantVBcJT0aEu_5pqjMsLxjUO7w6JF8ZoB9qSWxHRdUw29GpA0i2YuUMI7N5eQNftMFBLjP_ocA5bhqwPctLrL/s1600-h/DSC10000+%28428%29.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277165407479918962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCyHlzW2JCPRZfv763ZJ2dvhbbTaJvo_Was7ErifdJuJA5xINkS9rZOFantVBcJT0aEu_5pqjMsLxjUO7w6JF8ZoB9qSWxHRdUw29GpA0i2YuUMI7N5eQNftMFBLjP_ocA5bhqwPctLrL/s320/DSC10000+%28428%29.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I rode a local bus back to my part of town. It was difficult riding because I couldn’t speak Hindi to the conductor. Stuffed from the late lunch, I ate only a small dinner. Before going to bed I arranged for an autorickshaw to come pick me up in the morning.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-27944599517160494422008-11-24T06:54:00.017+06:002008-11-24T09:18:11.388+06:00Week 54: Showing off Bangladesh in Chennai (seeing the three biggest cities not named New Delhi)<span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-1st in Kolkata 9/10</span><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />Last night was not so much fun, I was having stomach issues. This led to me not eating very much during the day. Despite still being queasy this morning, I still headed out to see the Victoria Memorial. I had seen it last night lit up, but it was much more spectacular when I saw it in the daylight today.<br /><br />The memorial was gorgeous, startling. Inside I felt queasy and had to sit down several times. Light headed and sick. But I enjoyed the exhibits very much, a very well done museum. One of my favorite parts of the museum was the initiatives the British made to learn Bengali. They wrote the first Bengali-English dictionary. (pics: Victoria Memoria and the reflecting pool, Victoria Memorial in Kolkata)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7ianJ40PdT-sXfPletD_fsb0_vVYrFjEPK3VZDvSM_7BFPSkui0Ikyyu8odkrEDxo8QoKWs1kdeMtrokPfzAND5AgAYIXq3IpJHSeyaZ1WgC3PFXT3zAZAgcSuJarx8o2AYmGK4NKFAX/s1600-h/DSC09699.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272041190880531074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7ianJ40PdT-sXfPletD_fsb0_vVYrFjEPK3VZDvSM_7BFPSkui0Ikyyu8odkrEDxo8QoKWs1kdeMtrokPfzAND5AgAYIXq3IpJHSeyaZ1WgC3PFXT3zAZAgcSuJarx8o2AYmGK4NKFAX/s320/DSC09699.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AJF_r5TUKS6Fuzpoz1FV7Nc5-uecKlvcNls-2AQiJ-TGqWXGTeLl_lbm3PhbS0VDLc5PxLhFuZcC1X8283_rVzZ3TSwbO8Hh7IHlTyFOQOZS0XiLND6gtIHfyz-trXvYwu6GhGAtGiWq/s1600-h/DSC09700.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272041185407070018" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AJF_r5TUKS6Fuzpoz1FV7Nc5-uecKlvcNls-2AQiJ-TGqWXGTeLl_lbm3PhbS0VDLc5PxLhFuZcC1X8283_rVzZ3TSwbO8Hh7IHlTyFOQOZS0XiLND6gtIHfyz-trXvYwu6GhGAtGiWq/s320/DSC09700.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A great surprise was to meet the family again from the ticket booking office. I saw them outside the museum, and we had a photo session on the steps, and then down at the bench in the gardens. The little girl stole my camera, and her father’s camera, and tested both out while I chatted with her dad. (pics: myself and my friend, the girl and her father, the girl took this photo of her father and I, stealing her father's camera)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbi5r-qAm0nQPdrXPvNg7TuccZCWuHcKoj7LHwEynn5schjmmS3nuiXdNGL3lCQPL3YjcWTvNyPUOtNXbjI4ZBRnXOTIA2zhf6iTzBUi64IJ1GqFtiiyds70cY0TeiIiUx2g9dorG8ym5/s1600-h/DSC09703.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272041185264290674" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbi5r-qAm0nQPdrXPvNg7TuccZCWuHcKoj7LHwEynn5schjmmS3nuiXdNGL3lCQPL3YjcWTvNyPUOtNXbjI4ZBRnXOTIA2zhf6iTzBUi64IJ1GqFtiiyds70cY0TeiIiUx2g9dorG8ym5/s320/DSC09703.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjOmtrwl8i7uhW4So0q5DqnuTRpTqTitk3TRTOllY4W-GZbwgqns31FeygmCgIFO7owaWkUY9w_XVVi4q9SRJSGg3cQR_MYbFXyHnh2jyDN67_N8y-QwIvaj2xqaDgXTLqx7Kr615-hEN/s1600-h/DSC09705.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272041176202342402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjOmtrwl8i7uhW4So0q5DqnuTRpTqTitk3TRTOllY4W-GZbwgqns31FeygmCgIFO7owaWkUY9w_XVVi4q9SRJSGg3cQR_MYbFXyHnh2jyDN67_N8y-QwIvaj2xqaDgXTLqx7Kr615-hEN/s320/DSC09705.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7fic_C0DdvWE84UBs8vNGGDFKknjgnHiOpMB_i_TfW0lHOJ4noif6Ndr1f3LMS9gpvwo1R8ngUde3Q8igxB2K3fJlsQgeZpNdoCUvU4c3pxFmltorOenrKT8Lat2sSHlfSpCxXQC61N7/s1600-h/DSC09708.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040971782765362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7fic_C0DdvWE84UBs8vNGGDFKknjgnHiOpMB_i_TfW0lHOJ4noif6Ndr1f3LMS9gpvwo1R8ngUde3Q8igxB2K3fJlsQgeZpNdoCUvU4c3pxFmltorOenrKT8Lat2sSHlfSpCxXQC61N7/s320/DSC09708.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9g99uDzzC3dG5OKw7SqbH5-NHKCmhngvgXPbQofsxA-_wZUFjx8J6MsFAjRVWwmo5aHyDSMdhBIgvRUFLqq2bnYNg3YKNXUJJ0EYbmgThmRz6w7K8VX6QIw8T0YLrfpX1SqaNStO9mvC/s1600-h/DSC09709.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040966745681474" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9g99uDzzC3dG5OKw7SqbH5-NHKCmhngvgXPbQofsxA-_wZUFjx8J6MsFAjRVWwmo5aHyDSMdhBIgvRUFLqq2bnYNg3YKNXUJJ0EYbmgThmRz6w7K8VX6QIw8T0YLrfpX1SqaNStO9mvC/s320/DSC09709.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />On the way to the airport, there was a major jam, and the hot taxi did not make me feel any better. While waiting for the airplane, I started feeling increasing nausea. Got on the plane, and then just as we left the gate, and came to the end of the runway, I threw up. I had to use two airplane bags. It was the worst moment of all my time in Asia. I had never felt so horrible. However the place it ended up happening was quite good for storytelling. I had a schedule to keep though, and I was not stalling in Kolkata by recovering. It needed to plow through, and just deal with it. Its times like these that I thank my rowing career, as I feel it taught me to feel uncomfortable all the time in all types of situations. So this was just one more thing to get through.<br />I had asked the steward earlier if I could have a blanket, but as this was Spice Air, a budget airline (one of the many in India), they had none. Well after I threw up, I held the airplane bags in front of me until the plane had reached altitude, and I could unbuckle and carry the bags to the bathroom and dump them out. The stewardess back there saw me, shivering and carrying my bags. She offered me one of the sportcoats that the stewardesses wear as part of their uniform. I sat in the back row of the airplane, as it was a bit warmer from the front, and shivered. She then brought me another sportcoat of her coworker, and I wrapped that over my head. She brought me hot tea which she delivered under a napkin. Explained that they don’t offer hot beverages on the plane although they can still make them, and she had made it secretly. Lastly she brought me a tomato sandwich for free which would typically have to be bought. So there I sat, huddled under bright red Spice Jet women’s sportcoats, nibbling a sandwich and sipping a tea. I didn’t throw up again, but I still felt sick.<br /><br />Arriving in Chennai, as our plane had left a bit late, I was worried I might miss my train, leaving in the nighttime to Tiruchirappalli. When I landed, despite my sickness, I hurried to baggage claim, and went to the prepaid taxi counter. They said the train station was 45 minutes away, and I still had time to make it. Got in the taxi, we were off, almost across all of Chennai to the train station on the north side of the city.<br />I got there in time luckily, and found my train car, and got into my seat. The man next to me however told me that the seat I was in was also his, and I had to move. I showed the guy my ticket with the seat number printed on it. He then showed me his with my seat number written in pen on the back of his ticket. I felt I trumped his scribble with my actual ticket, and refused to move. He left the train, and came back insisting again I was in his seat, but I insisted this was my seat. He didn’t speak much English, and I spoke zero Tamil, so we left it at that.<br />We all arranged our beds just as the train started, unhooking the bunks from the ceiling, and went to bed. As this my first time riding in a train in India, and the lowest class at that, I was nervous about my luggage. The guy across from me sensed this and urged me through hand signals to use my big bag as a pillow. I had already wrapped my backpack around my legs.<br />Later that night, about an hour into the trip, I was woken up by a train conductor. Standing around him were several other passengers. He had a passenger list in hand, and asked for my ticket. He then told me I was in the wrong bed, and had to move. I was in bed 63, and I was supposed to be in bed 79. Tiredly, and still sick, I moved to a bed a bit down the train, and resettled in. From what I could tell, everyone was getting shifted, but in my tiredness, I might not have realized that it was probably just me. (Postscript: I realized on later trains that they post a passenger list outside of each cabin before the train leaves. On this, any changes in your seat or bed are listed. Thus, I was likely shifted and hadn’t known to check the list beforehand. On a later trip I had also been shifted and checked and then had this epiphany.) (pics: train arriving at the platform in Chennai, three-tiered bunks in second class)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhTqB_dG1tB5A9Xsm7wq2hqS-ULoip3KEemlnHnx9dFkJER5Qaqsy5J6vgzi_8sNrRHVf1xqdtN48Q6d7D5RHuj_ttPxv_y_PvXzHrb739agi3WxirVo-hUaHbbaq-GAFE-W0ucTYI6Px/s1600-h/DSC09715.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040967531240002" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhTqB_dG1tB5A9Xsm7wq2hqS-ULoip3KEemlnHnx9dFkJER5Qaqsy5J6vgzi_8sNrRHVf1xqdtN48Q6d7D5RHuj_ttPxv_y_PvXzHrb739agi3WxirVo-hUaHbbaq-GAFE-W0ucTYI6Px/s320/DSC09715.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcv5q0QHiycNkKod9Gr76N-pC1My4cXNl59I3L08l66KZkfwiAP-Nlqamh0l-2iInpk7YDjNTmVBRVNTA3Tm5bSdv6sYLiuMW6z8rvqbB8vsQ1di2MjjfaoOvG5ifF5k2LfFFJREYf7jq/s1600-h/DSC09717.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040963906090258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcv5q0QHiycNkKod9Gr76N-pC1My4cXNl59I3L08l66KZkfwiAP-Nlqamh0l-2iInpk7YDjNTmVBRVNTA3Tm5bSdv6sYLiuMW6z8rvqbB8vsQ1di2MjjfaoOvG5ifF5k2LfFFJREYf7jq/s320/DSC09717.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />54th-2nd in Tiruchirappalli 9/11</span><br /><br />I arrived in Tiruchirappalli just after the sun rose. The train had arrived an hour later than it was supposed to. I had booked a hotel near the train station, and was able to walk there when I arrived. Although a bit expensive, I couldn’t find any other open rooms in the cheaper hotels. When I got in the room I slept for 3 more hours. I ate a banana before going to bed, my first real food since being sick. The later arrival by train had worked out well, because the hotel had a strict 24 hour checkout policy. So by checking in later, I got to check out later the next morning, and avoid paying for an entire second day if I slept past sunrise.<br /><br />I tried to find some simple lunch to fill my empty stomach. Rice would be perfect. I found a restaurant serving typical South Indian lunches. They brought a variety of small dishes and curries, some spicy and some not, as well as rice and chapatis. I nibbled on what I could, filling up as much as possible. I felt better.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbngTw0YXY8IazxHwQMIRWJMwpGJOMNSVE2DX2ZwpLgq6_FjWL828TCWGTjjlfJ7VJs_8knOCFGCgxszFWi-EsCUGtnUvcqaYr5IoVGu6H2a6fENnWJBDUfmTU1PmoGNKkU5_aupoOgbKN/s1600-h/DSC09724.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040954446878802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbngTw0YXY8IazxHwQMIRWJMwpGJOMNSVE2DX2ZwpLgq6_FjWL828TCWGTjjlfJ7VJs_8knOCFGCgxszFWi-EsCUGtnUvcqaYr5IoVGu6H2a6fENnWJBDUfmTU1PmoGNKkU5_aupoOgbKN/s320/DSC09724.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: first meal after being sick)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The South Indian languages are intimidating. They are completely different from anything I have encountered as they are not a member Indo-European family of languages. The script as well is unique. I can’t attempt conversation like I do with Hindi or Nepali. Thus it was only English, and some interactions took time.<br /><br />Finding a bus to go visit the temples was easy, I asked a young guy, and he was waiting for the same bus. We sat next to each other and chatted on the way. I got off first and thanked him.<br />The Rock Temple was pretty neat, towering over the city on its rock outcropping. Inside there were numerous shrines as you climbed. It was a hard going up, but provided great views of the surrounding city of around a million people. At the top it was very windy. I sat there and watched families play, and one guy came up to me and talked for awhile. We went up together to see the main temple.(pics: <span>looking out over Tiruchirappalli</span>, myself at the top of the Rock Temple, the man who befriended me at the top of the Rock Temple, the peak of the Rock Temple, inside the stairwell of the Rock Temple, a temple on the way to the summit)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheK462PtVsrvAt5ft32nh6UDaNuoRR4AV6lpCcGvHbFR2hC-1v1-rw9OlcnPcKsDkdNqqVZLVolGOGfTLbfU2_1JrzfqYqp9Owq9MQG5rj7IjWzLnYknoBE1R5i3Q3H-CdwwFE0bZhW4iS/s1600-h/DSC09748.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039630427411714" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheK462PtVsrvAt5ft32nh6UDaNuoRR4AV6lpCcGvHbFR2hC-1v1-rw9OlcnPcKsDkdNqqVZLVolGOGfTLbfU2_1JrzfqYqp9Owq9MQG5rj7IjWzLnYknoBE1R5i3Q3H-CdwwFE0bZhW4iS/s320/DSC09748.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhldCTWH3EeENI6AXc1z_r4l_ksbLVlt6pl2meePXFBQcf7BP7eNvpr2afGxAQeP0ZcvIHT0dpwnhJ3jqTxy5yZFuQEpaWmkwl0febmPKmdzF22O7QI5n0kYtyTp2DF5UrCvjYe2Q26OINK/s1600-h/DSC09744.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039633325962290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhldCTWH3EeENI6AXc1z_r4l_ksbLVlt6pl2meePXFBQcf7BP7eNvpr2afGxAQeP0ZcvIHT0dpwnhJ3jqTxy5yZFuQEpaWmkwl0febmPKmdzF22O7QI5n0kYtyTp2DF5UrCvjYe2Q26OINK/s320/DSC09744.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8aZraE6DbmGscL0RzXNZw5t8fA6JyCywp0pZJ4AhHJMQHYETPeopd5QYvBPB0mnjOPvSpULlZTJnQe6GoLaM59uG-UkgEzbltnHQDPkYzIsWiwFzXLepiFoH6inhMOHiqX8XtoKiaHw0/s1600-h/DSC09743.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040156980730514" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8aZraE6DbmGscL0RzXNZw5t8fA6JyCywp0pZJ4AhHJMQHYETPeopd5QYvBPB0mnjOPvSpULlZTJnQe6GoLaM59uG-UkgEzbltnHQDPkYzIsWiwFzXLepiFoH6inhMOHiqX8XtoKiaHw0/s320/DSC09743.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjz8M4-LB1wW62mLhqfKFrMjUNV7TYKsSsb6DgWQZVb4UFhQZ7R3r_zSkoUeDiFAcKw8zwBNbqN5vRjZIuI7TeuecicRKQbs1SmLNfBZLQjJNO_VnLEGy3-4-1Yp7gdFHZu5liZAziu15n/s1600-h/DSC09737.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040163526622722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjz8M4-LB1wW62mLhqfKFrMjUNV7TYKsSsb6DgWQZVb4UFhQZ7R3r_zSkoUeDiFAcKw8zwBNbqN5vRjZIuI7TeuecicRKQbs1SmLNfBZLQjJNO_VnLEGy3-4-1Yp7gdFHZu5liZAziu15n/s320/DSC09737.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPgPoSF4w3Z_qSOlgjlhgtW75vIGqKIeMh691vuKiqI95OfH7-ywfy6Sy5Tlp1M9hvciYw-kOD-G9eiIcpMgwWGvolib6LicVThSxZtczxr1VMAoXTtgXMpWZDuSZ6-dvXOgpApNT_S2T/s1600-h/DSC09731.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040170135123266" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPgPoSF4w3Z_qSOlgjlhgtW75vIGqKIeMh691vuKiqI95OfH7-ywfy6Sy5Tlp1M9hvciYw-kOD-G9eiIcpMgwWGvolib6LicVThSxZtczxr1VMAoXTtgXMpWZDuSZ6-dvXOgpApNT_S2T/s320/DSC09731.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRIJ6I8uqDobtBMg7qYZ62dXYZZKPPPxMX3c4cAF-q04En4LoNq3ixHQjnWUfy8Z-dleMz5peKazGSN-UP1eLxgnB931a3pFMsw5oBt-ZPFXDMG-93NZgR7-ShBbBehGCkjLcdQe2vCgJ/s1600-h/DSC09730.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040179548672546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRIJ6I8uqDobtBMg7qYZ62dXYZZKPPPxMX3c4cAF-q04En4LoNq3ixHQjnWUfy8Z-dleMz5peKazGSN-UP1eLxgnB931a3pFMsw5oBt-ZPFXDMG-93NZgR7-ShBbBehGCkjLcdQe2vCgJ/s320/DSC09730.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I saw one of the funniest things I have seen written on a sign. This one said that said the rock the temple was built atop was 3500 billion years old, which makes it orders of magnitudes older than the universe.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0HvQ-YgfLcDJP44ljgbxDwhe27sgXQBCksCs2mRhqH71fGUN2cEw89ZnEcDa_Epg4sC9P8DD0MtCj-H3vY6J6ilQXU2Gacf7XX137kJ3jJCXBYutqE4GjFgPbX5DuanEGPgnyGeHYRM9/s1600-h/DSC09734.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272040164481777170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0HvQ-YgfLcDJP44ljgbxDwhe27sgXQBCksCs2mRhqH71fGUN2cEw89ZnEcDa_Epg4sC9P8DD0MtCj-H3vY6J6ilQXU2Gacf7XX137kJ3jJCXBYutqE4GjFgPbX5DuanEGPgnyGeHYRM9/s320/DSC09734.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: I found something older than the universe!)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From the Rock Temple I headed to Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple, the largest temple in India! I was very excited to see the South Indian Hindu temples after learning about them in my architecture classes in college. Their many walls that have giant gopurams, which are the gates located in the center of the walls, are gorgeously decorated and usually decrease in size as you reach the center. I remember seeing photos of them lined up in my textbooks. The temple has seven walls, and a total of 21 gopurams. It was built in the 12th century. I noticed that some of its sandstone walls are eroding. I spent a lot of time here, taking it all in slowly, and sitting down and observing the activities.<br />You’re allowed to go on the roof of one of the walls for a small price, I went up, and was accompanied by the worker who was to escort you. He gave some information, and I asked some questions while I stood and took photos. He offered to give me a tour of the inner areas as you cannot go inside without a tour guide. I declined; it cost 300 Rupees. But he still followed me when I went downstairs again. And kept trying to show me things. Finally I asked if I needed him around to see the temple, beside the inside. He said “no” but insisted the inside was the best part, and you need a guide. Well I explained how I had no interest to go into the middle of the temple for a price. He was shocked that I had no interest, and looked appalled. He stormed off, then stormed back demanding that I give him some money for “leading him on.” I told him I never led him on, that he followed me, and I told him I didn’t want a tour. Still he stuck his hand out, so I put in 5 Rupees, as a small tip for “wasting his time on me.” He got angry, ran over to a beggar, and put it in the beggar’s hand and yelled to me “I am not a beggar, this is a beggar’s wage!” I have to say I didn’t enjoy his attempt at a tour anyway. He only wanted to show off all the sexual artwork on the temple, and I was turned off by his assumption that this was all I would be interested in.<br />Walking around for awhile was fun. I even ran into an elephant at one point. Felt I almost got trampled. (pics: largest gopuram at Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple, gopuram on second inner wall and the shops that make up the space in between the walls of the temple, closeup of a colorful gopuram, gopurams lined up in a row as seen from the top of the third wall, almost getting trampled by an elephant as it turned a corner, the elephant in front of the only white gopuram, myself within the fifth wall of the temple)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib4W49J1nJKOGd16szcMYfguYQodNBNOAP6Pd07S-JXzb6kAuno_Q-LNxqH1nlvGo1IIbWUiiTbVlzm0NV1EXqy921SxZdBVOzGe26SXhRzneM2S56P2JLFokaIyHT-YCx-AgoclZhMxeZ/s1600-h/DSC09760.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039620546561090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib4W49J1nJKOGd16szcMYfguYQodNBNOAP6Pd07S-JXzb6kAuno_Q-LNxqH1nlvGo1IIbWUiiTbVlzm0NV1EXqy921SxZdBVOzGe26SXhRzneM2S56P2JLFokaIyHT-YCx-AgoclZhMxeZ/s320/DSC09760.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1Uwsq8UC66b63An_tAfxFEG0gHnqwd5RN0_i6qpld_EyvjRXBAoFf1vr77Neq7Y6UZZUFnHt_X1VI7kHbrau-nbyZiNkbsJ-dEhulzcqMbsbbHofngil8Q8C-Umd0Iq3j-PhBb9gBACD/s1600-h/DSC09765.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039616887180386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1Uwsq8UC66b63An_tAfxFEG0gHnqwd5RN0_i6qpld_EyvjRXBAoFf1vr77Neq7Y6UZZUFnHt_X1VI7kHbrau-nbyZiNkbsJ-dEhulzcqMbsbbHofngil8Q8C-Umd0Iq3j-PhBb9gBACD/s320/DSC09765.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbyJdzrbfYS3OFba_d1ah-p6Q77RlikrI09zOaxkFY-QvW8sq8eOGa23iH12gzuIHsGGwbqC_3yXC_Buc7dgQtVL4VeWF2dxIzansxHi5KOBrarr9rzFncC_TEggnj0gZc0IbpgTH5wew/s1600-h/DSC09772.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039618792548082" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbyJdzrbfYS3OFba_d1ah-p6Q77RlikrI09zOaxkFY-QvW8sq8eOGa23iH12gzuIHsGGwbqC_3yXC_Buc7dgQtVL4VeWF2dxIzansxHi5KOBrarr9rzFncC_TEggnj0gZc0IbpgTH5wew/s320/DSC09772.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCOnXYvXwDYJouNwKMsB-5i4ZCBubuzak1yqXoXMEHAUPqjpaLvUcuG6Xj6ZNCJwWO1YXxYOpsPHSnZibncV4R1KO__DDPOq-A2mTgf-Vm2yxD8dXZD9rEOXSxFrWQkQB6lTnOZL318Aj/s1600-h/DSC09778.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039106354889698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCOnXYvXwDYJouNwKMsB-5i4ZCBubuzak1yqXoXMEHAUPqjpaLvUcuG6Xj6ZNCJwWO1YXxYOpsPHSnZibncV4R1KO__DDPOq-A2mTgf-Vm2yxD8dXZD9rEOXSxFrWQkQB6lTnOZL318Aj/s320/DSC09778.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Li7nsG9IPyeJSRouGF0wx5OPs1bbZeaeFIyGuV5HExgrDg32y4m3dSkOpDwCnwUZUUOVzwjFwoyvAcTlo2QjpIW6sQBWmtf9ElAqBGAr0dgm_O2iX9xiinFEtf4QJWtcr_DWqTXQ4N19/s1600-h/DSC09792.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039097180216306" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Li7nsG9IPyeJSRouGF0wx5OPs1bbZeaeFIyGuV5HExgrDg32y4m3dSkOpDwCnwUZUUOVzwjFwoyvAcTlo2QjpIW6sQBWmtf9ElAqBGAr0dgm_O2iX9xiinFEtf4QJWtcr_DWqTXQ4N19/s320/DSC09792.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDdako4ZB8FuewIiCw9VC5UTlvKkNPBqzLlEbQbLZFEI12ZNvtMkioTjdi6ukhUwThe_R6jMC-9aEmnm2hmXtsOK6QAF0AeNC-5ATtkAtu2nDtnCrBM6DsnBSKjnCEkiV3zpBHi4Dokcm/s1600-h/DSC09795.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039093909312770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDdako4ZB8FuewIiCw9VC5UTlvKkNPBqzLlEbQbLZFEI12ZNvtMkioTjdi6ukhUwThe_R6jMC-9aEmnm2hmXtsOK6QAF0AeNC-5ATtkAtu2nDtnCrBM6DsnBSKjnCEkiV3zpBHi4Dokcm/s320/DSC09795.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZW49WVqUubxbbnZv1wUicZqBEQABWMRGz01rxcKFgRpxeZc3tyZ0FORyUBBnwxJnoawt_zvTgjGi5ZEmKutEjbR9Tkr0ak3ZgISR9e9vVoGV-FAT0bDXflEL-y8rSJnzvJrxahxGVnhp7/s1600-h/DSC09810.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039089982048226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZW49WVqUubxbbnZv1wUicZqBEQABWMRGz01rxcKFgRpxeZc3tyZ0FORyUBBnwxJnoawt_zvTgjGi5ZEmKutEjbR9Tkr0ak3ZgISR9e9vVoGV-FAT0bDXflEL-y8rSJnzvJrxahxGVnhp7/s320/DSC09810.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I still wasn’t feeling 100%, but got some popcorn as a snack and an apple juice.<br /><br />I took the bus back, and tried looking around for an internet café. Then someone shouted to me. I couldn’t believe it. It was the Bangladeshi guys from the train and cell phone store doing business in India for a week. This is the third time we’ve seen each other, and now hundreds of miles from Kolkata where we got off the train. It was incredible. We chatted for an hour or more, and had tea. Then we headed for a light dinner. They wanted light food as they had a bus back to Chennai, and I was still a bit sick. It was great to see them. Made me feel much better. (pic: myself and the Bangladeshi men who I ran into many times all over India)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjQVAazmeCI3dT7YQTbszbLYzZ-klsUfnPhx7-YiankHkhpSuk_l0a5tWMIiD94E3suIWbuiFvAp6OTZlermB4P3NA4cgI_KB9iCmPJWpxA87KayjUaZiqrmf30JCpiGtDFslB7lxyh11/s1600-h/DSC09816.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272039080097796530" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjQVAazmeCI3dT7YQTbszbLYzZ-klsUfnPhx7-YiankHkhpSuk_l0a5tWMIiD94E3suIWbuiFvAp6OTZlermB4P3NA4cgI_KB9iCmPJWpxA87KayjUaZiqrmf30JCpiGtDFslB7lxyh11/s320/DSC09816.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the evening at my hotel I spent some time practicing my presentation that I have to deliver in two days at the conference.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-3rd in Chennai 9/12</span><br /><br />I felt a lot better this morning, and had a breakfast of toast and eggs at the hotel after checking out after my 24 hours were up. I walked to the train station, and boarded for my trip to Chennai. On the five hour ride, I practiced my speech every twenty minutes, and worked on how to explain all my ideas. After arriving in Chennai, I took a CNG to the IIT-Madras campus gate. From there I was able to catch a bus to where the conference was. The campus was enormous, and it is a good thing the bus was there, it would have been way too far to walk. I realized later how fortunate I was to get the bus (crowded) because it ran so sporadically.<br />I had some lunch at a coffee shop chain on campus near the bookstore, and then marveled at the monkeys running around. The wooded campus used to be part of the nearby national park, and it certainly still maintains that look. (pics: IIT-Madras's campus used to be part of a national park, IIT-Madras and its dense foilage)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvrppkuQ9kzHZZd9U4AsG-7t4zuT15hA4i9KS4yZ37tlWXUoUEwBawOrIJUD3HdsMN-Q4g5xvEPCJqRocNybcI3lB-kNzc99glY8SVYGiquwxzvYD92WdZAHjf-IYNLZfGojuwdrnuB6N/s1600-h/DSC09833.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038496813359170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvrppkuQ9kzHZZd9U4AsG-7t4zuT15hA4i9KS4yZ37tlWXUoUEwBawOrIJUD3HdsMN-Q4g5xvEPCJqRocNybcI3lB-kNzc99glY8SVYGiquwxzvYD92WdZAHjf-IYNLZfGojuwdrnuB6N/s320/DSC09833.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB82vGs0HTH9Xx-1aJ8VqXdrkwEw5vmnEf7BnGREsmJYcysleMYZAt2A_MXygAJw6hwjED0hVaSywyTRocxMEwDE_Ug4S5lzU99X5-6tyv5gzX1mhdgJP7CVEvXG2etnKoi_cDySk8RF0/s1600-h/DSC09828.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038862856835922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB82vGs0HTH9Xx-1aJ8VqXdrkwEw5vmnEf7BnGREsmJYcysleMYZAt2A_MXygAJw6hwjED0hVaSywyTRocxMEwDE_Ug4S5lzU99X5-6tyv5gzX1mhdgJP7CVEvXG2etnKoi_cDySk8RF0/s320/DSC09828.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was here for the International Conference on Best Practices to Relieve Congestion on Urban Streets in Developing Countries, which was sponsored both by Fulbright (because a Fulbright Senior Scholar was hosting it at IIT-Madras) and the World Bank. I had submitted a paper to it at the advice of my former professor Dr. Stone.<br /><br />I checked in at the guesthouse and then was received by undergraduate students (older than me) to bring me to the academic building we would have the conference at. I checked in there as well, and joined a room full of presenters conversing. I was introduced by the conference organizer who I had emailed with over the past two months. He publicly commented to the group how loose my pants looked due to the amount of weight I’ve lost. (pic: the hall my conference was held in at IIT-Madras)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_PQm7GBJnwTyaQRXc291IQduBV6-upVxCRs8coZV9X3CiGY3Q2uIRYZb-nxb4G78uP98JHZgGCeFL9xG3aGcx0LhXPzpXaeXP1gKS51Q0BoKCI-Yt348Ag7oNTMJkOHUf78PEngski2t/s1600-h/DSC09827.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038864304830706" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_PQm7GBJnwTyaQRXc291IQduBV6-upVxCRs8coZV9X3CiGY3Q2uIRYZb-nxb4G78uP98JHZgGCeFL9xG3aGcx0LhXPzpXaeXP1gKS51Q0BoKCI-Yt348Ag7oNTMJkOHUf78PEngski2t/s320/DSC09827.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I talked with two Bangladeshi women who had done studies on women riders of buses in Dhaka. Most of the Bangladesh presenters are talking about buses! I also met a young lecturer from Hyderabad, and he remained a close acquaintance all weekend; we shared a few meals together. I didn’t eat tonight much as my stomach is still readjusting.<br />While waiting to check my gmail later, I got to talk to a representative from Ghana. He knew NC State because we send students to his campus for study abroad.<br /><br />I called my Dad to wish him a happy birthday.<br /><br />Later that night, I unexpectedly gained a roommate. I was not aware I was sharing my room, and apparently neither was he. But we were both okay with it. He was a civil engineer from Kolkata, so it was fun to talk about Bengal with him.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-4th in Chennai 9/13</span><br /><br />Today was the real first day of the conference. And the day I would give my presentation. I was nervous and excited all day. Hard to focus on the presentations before me because of that, but I was still attentive<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyMCF10rqzI57LGrUQ85Sx1SNfJwDERGfAGWhKysUQwvq-a_r_kcttE9okkGTfCsFCWL4qHoPP0ghkxAFHjyHm_fjDL7JJ83CYSmA2uKJav4qcu_KwnuaZ3zNSO_iAGK1gu2Lb9v8f6CK/s1600-h/DSC09822.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038868087936034" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyMCF10rqzI57LGrUQ85Sx1SNfJwDERGfAGWhKysUQwvq-a_r_kcttE9okkGTfCsFCWL4qHoPP0ghkxAFHjyHm_fjDL7JJ83CYSmA2uKJav4qcu_KwnuaZ3zNSO_iAGK1gu2Lb9v8f6CK/s320/DSC09822.JPG" border="0" /></a>. (pic: main lecture hall of the conference)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I’d give my presentation at B-. I felt I might’ve talked too quick. But mostly it was because the moderator told us all we had 5 minutes less each to present, because he wanted more time for comments. Well we’d all find out that that meant 5 more minutes for him personally to comment on each of our presentations while everyone was forced to listen. One audience member told me later that this moderator is always “like this.” (pic: myself getting introduced before presenting my research)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh1Ioc8jI_41tZW8hF6r-eESHW8qs1kihbdpngg9q9sBYpF4bjJndB6JTMhdH6q65EXKln_4Grk3y7fkvX-gbyrSiLJyRMUGy-oenJm9-0Qh0UleWIj_8pSiy4JmeL44j_scOw5UKFz73/s1600-h/DSC09824.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038864726239746" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh1Ioc8jI_41tZW8hF6r-eESHW8qs1kihbdpngg9q9sBYpF4bjJndB6JTMhdH6q65EXKln_4Grk3y7fkvX-gbyrSiLJyRMUGy-oenJm9-0Qh0UleWIj_8pSiy4JmeL44j_scOw5UKFz73/s320/DSC09824.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Even given short notice on the time restriction, I felt I cut out the necessary things, and gave a good 15 minute presentation. I chose the best parts to focus on.<br />In the future I think I’d scope my slides a bit more. My future papers and presentations will be better, and this was a good start. I was happy with my talk, I spoke with confidence and excitement.<br /><br />I enjoyed the conference, but I wish that some of the presenters were not reading straight from their slides! I also found a lot of them overlapped, ending up seeming a bit similar. Topics such as pedestrians and congestion mitigation seemed to find a spot in each talk. As well, many folks gave the same background information. There were a few IIT-Madras students, but mostly graduate level, so I believe I was the youngest person at the conference. Most folks are also here from Chennai or India. This is what international delegates must feel when they come to TRB in Washington DC.<br /><br />The meals are all buffet style with the best of South Indian cuisine. We all conversed while sitting at tiny tables. Only problem is that the same tablecloths were used for all the meals, so they got very dirty, and became gross to eat on them. Some pretty intense discussions over many transportation topics resulted regardless while we ate.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEE0XVwcflqBPpGCT6EuskzsoS58QgMzVPZU4pfmauRuqn7chxheoNSMnOA1lAJyycnxk28yXlk75GrgOzrZIb5St7TU_y05AFcsdjKz-5OUym1BlwVGUd3jRXCizPmvsKGWHGqkbVMe7/s1600-h/DSC09832.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038858674710354" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEE0XVwcflqBPpGCT6EuskzsoS58QgMzVPZU4pfmauRuqn7chxheoNSMnOA1lAJyycnxk28yXlk75GrgOzrZIb5St7TU_y05AFcsdjKz-5OUym1BlwVGUd3jRXCizPmvsKGWHGqkbVMe7/s320/DSC09832.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: dining area at the conference)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Before bed, my roommate and I had a long discussion about West Bengal and the current political situation there. As well we touched on the political issues facing India in general, and how the states vote on party lines.<br /><br />I washed some clothing in the bathroom of my guesthouse. I bought some detergent from a campus store and used the bucket provided.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-5th in Chennai 9/14</span><br /><br />Today was similar to yesterday, except that I was relaxed without having to give a presentation. I did get to see the moderator who pushed us off the stage yesterday give his own presentation. He had over 100 slides for his presentation today, in just a 20 minute presentation. He was clearly going way over time, and had to get told to hurry up and get off the stage. He became flustered, annoyed, and started skipping 6-7 slides at a time, and kept getting interrupted by his moderator. Then during others presentation, when he asked bizarre questions, he was told to be quiet by the moderators. Another professor said he is always like that.<br /><br />The last presentation of the day was great and I was glad to have caught it. After this there was a panel discussion. However it did not flow like I was used to. After each member of the panel gave their opening remarks, the whole crowd was invited to give their commentary. People one by one took their turn at the podium and expressed whatever was on their mind. The panel simply sat and watched. At the end, two members of the panel gave closing comments. So, not really a panel discussion, more like an opportunity for everyone to express themselves one more time.<br /><br />In the afternoon, I saw my two-day-roommate off in his taxi. After the conference was over, and after a final dinner I was back to the hotel. The final dinner was a good chance to give our goodbyes to the people we had met over the weekend. I spent the rest of the night checking internet, or in my room watching TV.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-6th on train to Mumbai 9/15</span><br /><br />Breakfast was at the guesthouse’s mess hall. Two older couples and I were eating there. Standard South Asian breakfast fare that I can’t recall, just that it was what I’d eaten the last two days.<br /><br />I was afraid I would miss the train. I had gone out to get the campus bus to the front gate so I could catch an autorickshaw, but the bus did not seem to be coming. A women from the conference recognized me, and told me that it might not come for a long while. My other hope was to get an autorickshaw from here but I had to hope one would come by. I was worried. I can’t miss my train! We saw an autorickshaw pass, and they assured it would have to come back our way. It did but with someone in it. We hailed it anyway, and begged him to take me to the train station after dropping the other guy off. Both the driver and guy agreed, and luckily I was on my way.<br /><br />I met Shuman, Ayon’s brother-in-law, at the station, with still plenty of time to spare. He is in Chennai working for Standard Chartered bank for three months. We got to stand and chat for about 20 minutes before my train came. He walked me all the way to the train car before saying goodbye, and mine was all the way at the end. It was good to see him for even just a short time. He is the one friend I knew in India at the time. (pics: mix of traffic waiting on the streets of Chennai, Chennai Central train station, Shuman/myself at the train station, Shuman taking photos at the Chennai Central train station)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzlqDDyY2z4Kj3LyWoDgBaYddIDfamOt58G6jMJ7SgEJrPuTrg_f1y-omiiAfurRQt6duB8vzLw4altbsEfcIv2oQWPXh25NhfeSH1Me75mTTj8fyXAxXoK09-ExjdY93YheStN7OxroO/s1600-h/DSC09839.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038487005116530" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzlqDDyY2z4Kj3LyWoDgBaYddIDfamOt58G6jMJ7SgEJrPuTrg_f1y-omiiAfurRQt6duB8vzLw4altbsEfcIv2oQWPXh25NhfeSH1Me75mTTj8fyXAxXoK09-ExjdY93YheStN7OxroO/s320/DSC09839.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUuoTW6bWXESh8H-hExZS5Ugx6fpFAl2ltONGwGJnlWE4N2Xqjbh15uMobiMiyz3DcXqe7ra_zeVRvKzEM29sZcpKyY8eqQXL8D8KAo__FLR0apOJ33v3K_mZb0IOozMYrYafo2Plve0p/s1600-h/DSC09844.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038480878316770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUuoTW6bWXESh8H-hExZS5Ugx6fpFAl2ltONGwGJnlWE4N2Xqjbh15uMobiMiyz3DcXqe7ra_zeVRvKzEM29sZcpKyY8eqQXL8D8KAo__FLR0apOJ33v3K_mZb0IOozMYrYafo2Plve0p/s320/DSC09844.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3id0DKRZq-N0Ank0e3a2hwjCD1vLQsVK6AfdCxTeDCkRNgW_Ielr-tzeUWecrTbsT7CoAKsJ60c6xnXBq9aF26D25RT6uasnTbF-rEjw-uAGSD3P5xyrOagP2ix83tJzMmqApSQVxw37u/s1600-h/DSC09846.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038477679132866" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3id0DKRZq-N0Ank0e3a2hwjCD1vLQsVK6AfdCxTeDCkRNgW_Ielr-tzeUWecrTbsT7CoAKsJ60c6xnXBq9aF26D25RT6uasnTbF-rEjw-uAGSD3P5xyrOagP2ix83tJzMmqApSQVxw37u/s320/DSC09846.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPK19wdJZ1yIwi95AK4hBa7HvRaylXlZhAOlkGTg9bW47pF83dAMkE19c7090-CRIiFY3xAejGG5qCtZSkahRzlJCr9LC5cWoNVyKaVETHw35fLtcBDY2tWxJ4125PCUHrc0qwBbKNcNr/s1600-h/DSC09847.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038469593566002" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPK19wdJZ1yIwi95AK4hBa7HvRaylXlZhAOlkGTg9bW47pF83dAMkE19c7090-CRIiFY3xAejGG5qCtZSkahRzlJCr9LC5cWoNVyKaVETHw35fLtcBDY2tWxJ4125PCUHrc0qwBbKNcNr/s320/DSC09847.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The train was the nicest I’d booked for myself, as I’d be on it for 27 hours across India. I had a double bunked cabin. Across from me was a married couple, and atop a young guy who never came off his bunk except to use the toilet. Across from me was an Israeli guy, and we chatted for a bit a bit into the ride. We shared a tea, ad he told me about how he was the head of an organization which could be called Adam LeAdam, something he related me as the Israeli Peace Corps. He was the first foreigner I’d talked to on my trip. His top bunk guy was also nice, but didn’t talk to us until the following morning.<br /><br />Lunch and dinner were pretty much the same on the train. Vegetarian South Indian food. The rotis were cold and uninspiring. I spent the day reading the magazines and books I’d brought form Bangladesh. One was Angel and Demons, the other Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time.<br /><br />It’s not really possible to roam the Indian trains. The cars are separated as to not allow mixing of the different train classes. I could walk to the end of the AC cars, and that was it. Mostly if I left my bunk I hung out in the doorway of the train and watched the state of Andhra Pradesh fly by. The Eastern Ghats were great to see, as they rose up from the coastline, but the AC windows didn’t allow for good photos, so I had to go to the door and hope it was open for a good shot. (pics: myself hanging out the door of the train, dried up river bed in Andhra Pradesh, train station sign at the surrounding empty landscape, the early hills of the Eastern Ghats)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCFQRFlL_BiiQ35SLO-elCL4vehxlNwb0aMUGRS1bL-zR1TwC9p_8DWOE7FiAQqkzTpQVs8hVY23_pQzee9dH7Mc4ViosSVmGD6I2IELO-rkX8c_3ZcptkVAAvtznRUUAbutJsQJXA8Jz/s1600-h/DSC09877.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038252930953922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCFQRFlL_BiiQ35SLO-elCL4vehxlNwb0aMUGRS1bL-zR1TwC9p_8DWOE7FiAQqkzTpQVs8hVY23_pQzee9dH7Mc4ViosSVmGD6I2IELO-rkX8c_3ZcptkVAAvtznRUUAbutJsQJXA8Jz/s320/DSC09877.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWQ5XUqGYbJ-77hTXyvPLU4wL6rQhbtc71GhP0tlctCSpIab4n5oKc3Z_RvLVoKn5zoDNq-Z6x9-TBYUIPWR4Qtmmsbys-TCYJH9YTfumma22JhJlioES8Lvj0Z-F422Oqq9Ruuq3fHas/s1600-h/DSC09862.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038262167917794" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWQ5XUqGYbJ-77hTXyvPLU4wL6rQhbtc71GhP0tlctCSpIab4n5oKc3Z_RvLVoKn5zoDNq-Z6x9-TBYUIPWR4Qtmmsbys-TCYJH9YTfumma22JhJlioES8Lvj0Z-F422Oqq9Ruuq3fHas/s320/DSC09862.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZYbS7ZflqwZNiQFy-08x9gbyuDAD9QJ71mD0XM9BKx9WgTerWsu5BQE-7UUytIBmElLrFoi3YoZ_pLUm8z5lefo5fIG-e9OF2Hf0rPZCcagT2uqusEiix1teVCBzm588hJ9fDG8EPxuP/s1600-h/DSC09869.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038255478371378" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZYbS7ZflqwZNiQFy-08x9gbyuDAD9QJ71mD0XM9BKx9WgTerWsu5BQE-7UUytIBmElLrFoi3YoZ_pLUm8z5lefo5fIG-e9OF2Hf0rPZCcagT2uqusEiix1teVCBzm588hJ9fDG8EPxuP/s320/DSC09869.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHp1GAyhr_FSAiw-7rU4PqfHXFBsCtaotFDP3BI85T_XxfPEPyd8uihTOAo2C2qrQ_Qb53MwrS3f2_ko8po7D_9wtAIquHhK-953MvXXtHBA5fRzKlZKIgCCT6hEqF_8SP7B6KrYCvItTm/s1600-h/DSC09855.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038291425035410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHp1GAyhr_FSAiw-7rU4PqfHXFBsCtaotFDP3BI85T_XxfPEPyd8uihTOAo2C2qrQ_Qb53MwrS3f2_ko8po7D_9wtAIquHhK-953MvXXtHBA5fRzKlZKIgCCT6hEqF_8SP7B6KrYCvItTm/s320/DSC09855.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A man kept coming by our bunks and sitting and talking to me and the husband across. It was quite annoying. Didn’t seem to pick up how no one wanted to chat with him. Yet he told us his life story as we patiently listened.<br /><br />The bed was comfy, and I slept well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">54th-7th in Mumbai 9/16</span><br /><br />When the train passed through the Western Ghats it was morning. They were much more gorgeous than the Eastern. We emerged from the Deccan Plateau through a tunnel and all of a sudden were looking out over the hills as they swept toward the Arabian Sea. They were much greener, and I had my camera out taking tons of pictures. We went from tunnel to tunnel as we made our descent to the coast. At one point the train stopped for 10 minutes, so I jumped off the train, didn’t go far, just for the hell of it. Train made a stop at Pune and half the train left, and more people came on. The Israeli, Uri, and I decided to share the room I’d booked in Mumbai. (pics: train passing through a tunnel, the view as we emerged from a tunnel in the Western Ghats, myself as the train stopped in the Western Ghats, Uri standing beside our train, train passing through tunnels)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMtwT92hDLcj0hg_MLc56bHg8GOuq9Vhow6yISN9nD6AshaH-7L3J9O3qtixAHOrGUJo0cuoKCsTlVnWZMUPqHGtQA5HTlKYWLdzoDbaMKf55rchNb1hy1Eb1BRx7tEr62eA0YgB2S2D0/s1600-h/DSC09898.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272038245305125106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMtwT92hDLcj0hg_MLc56bHg8GOuq9Vhow6yISN9nD6AshaH-7L3J9O3qtixAHOrGUJo0cuoKCsTlVnWZMUPqHGtQA5HTlKYWLdzoDbaMKf55rchNb1hy1Eb1BRx7tEr62eA0YgB2S2D0/s320/DSC09898.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8RY3dNDFnxfTX0j17dTZfkUoGmYg0us36CIldRJ6AjA7Xeg6vc0XR-g2B1rF0VxJ50jufrnQBCHhPQAn-CvQWC0zUNw-2N2-tFEOyD4DNMG4S27iDA7P3E_4XMMOl2tToVBeX76KyLXMs/s1600-h/DSC09899.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037844273423234" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8RY3dNDFnxfTX0j17dTZfkUoGmYg0us36CIldRJ6AjA7Xeg6vc0XR-g2B1rF0VxJ50jufrnQBCHhPQAn-CvQWC0zUNw-2N2-tFEOyD4DNMG4S27iDA7P3E_4XMMOl2tToVBeX76KyLXMs/s320/DSC09899.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8tGLvxjiZxeqQb-j8aK0scyPx7hOh71WiuOUxvbWhD_g1u3xpNjAAD-qq4LtEnI8Giwr3hkUF1qAr7upNqR4IRYo_LJXR7mz1mA1hm-Ahv9r-PNowUio8wrBrw4TPy57S32CEYb-f9Ks/s1600-h/DSC09914.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037837219257362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8tGLvxjiZxeqQb-j8aK0scyPx7hOh71WiuOUxvbWhD_g1u3xpNjAAD-qq4LtEnI8Giwr3hkUF1qAr7upNqR4IRYo_LJXR7mz1mA1hm-Ahv9r-PNowUio8wrBrw4TPy57S32CEYb-f9Ks/s320/DSC09914.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtcdMweJFDtIPL2PDr_kgLPZT8l2sVsIFnijsY82XFRG9CLhrfjW_kT4I6Uy8WeMg3RpltdQdZG7KPp77WbDLdd-5kRHo7bExHUPD6-PXZuxGtriBA-ltcVTOXDQZxAqa-601gU-CfB8G/s1600-h/DSC09916.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037835555895954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtcdMweJFDtIPL2PDr_kgLPZT8l2sVsIFnijsY82XFRG9CLhrfjW_kT4I6Uy8WeMg3RpltdQdZG7KPp77WbDLdd-5kRHo7bExHUPD6-PXZuxGtriBA-ltcVTOXDQZxAqa-601gU-CfB8G/s320/DSC09916.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDrP4nGL_FYLBkGN7xtLCod1R2HDZbMsMx5szPiAZuEMmhIMfcxkiIzmZfQVjixgPUPSD-SIXbMPHoxr_k9JLSYtZQb-oIIs6KTHLEyXLsUSHa8ekP267LeqAnbP2lxy6LqSqZuyaT1dZ3/s1600-h/DSC09920.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037820158072770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDrP4nGL_FYLBkGN7xtLCod1R2HDZbMsMx5szPiAZuEMmhIMfcxkiIzmZfQVjixgPUPSD-SIXbMPHoxr_k9JLSYtZQb-oIIs6KTHLEyXLsUSHa8ekP267LeqAnbP2lxy6LqSqZuyaT1dZ3/s320/DSC09920.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After arriving in Mumbai, we found our hotel via taxi, and checked in. The place looked empty. Took five minutes until a staff person even showed up. But the room and toilets were nice, good choice. (pics: Victoria Terminal in Mumbai, streets and traffic mix of downtown Mumbai)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOS_IYv-Nq3xni1_z9GKzyu0YJVtHT5YQZJGXnR-IYxOF6K4P9yOcqs3U2hKsgyqKNAYn04XyWMtPqYWsX2n7quVgVCVCDwpx4YFlthHugRm5rNr_Bemk8yu8ZnuTJh34FRQoTB6SmvyA/s1600-h/DSC09929.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037813302436962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOS_IYv-Nq3xni1_z9GKzyu0YJVtHT5YQZJGXnR-IYxOF6K4P9yOcqs3U2hKsgyqKNAYn04XyWMtPqYWsX2n7quVgVCVCDwpx4YFlthHugRm5rNr_Bemk8yu8ZnuTJh34FRQoTB6SmvyA/s320/DSC09929.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHWQIwIB_9f-o8PDSJddBz5cVAVi-Pvdj3VbsGxvgtVOwxOeQ4X25Ui6hClErIabkKp2ugYsCjXosngNmZ1zSmH0gehG-OzaEXshM5GQI2jp_PkIlmvdAGNtobouMU9GV6ux_gvQawkXZ/s1600-h/DSC09930.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037650420915090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHWQIwIB_9f-o8PDSJddBz5cVAVi-Pvdj3VbsGxvgtVOwxOeQ4X25Ui6hClErIabkKp2ugYsCjXosngNmZ1zSmH0gehG-OzaEXshM5GQI2jp_PkIlmvdAGNtobouMU9GV6ux_gvQawkXZ/s320/DSC09930.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After grabbing a streetside lunch, some sandwich with tons of veggies and cheese for toppings, we found Uri an internet café. I left after that to go explore myself.<br /><br />I took the suburban trains in Mumbai to go up to Mumbai Central were you can buy bus tickets out of town. I was purchasing one for two days from now to go to Udaipur. The train got crowded, but not to the point I thought it’d be. You did have to expect which side of the train you would disembark as side the platform would was different for each station. I had to ask someone where my stop would be, luckily they knew. If you didn’t expect it, you’d be stuck on the wrong side when the train arrived, and would have to squeeze through the entire crowd before the train left…impossible. No one checked tickets on the train, so I realized I may or may not have to buy one. I did see a fight, some old guy fought a young guy when he felt he was in the way as he got on the train. (pics: packed train at a station on the Mumbai suburban train line, inside the crowded Mumbai trains)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWmG5crpsfVvKN7sc2lR7SGYJSAIW2tfzSWT11y9-00iQap1Ng4j8266R6-JXN0LfWjqPcdwQwHQW7hSpfD_fOq_ZGEw5qh3StMZiXv_JLbWZ4nZqY5Q-OwKqamylkGUnqy6ubykC4yGT/s1600-h/DSC09941.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037640961854402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWmG5crpsfVvKN7sc2lR7SGYJSAIW2tfzSWT11y9-00iQap1Ng4j8266R6-JXN0LfWjqPcdwQwHQW7hSpfD_fOq_ZGEw5qh3StMZiXv_JLbWZ4nZqY5Q-OwKqamylkGUnqy6ubykC4yGT/s320/DSC09941.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKiE2_pq9guLSqRa2auvsXVvJGfV7W6DJv0NlNoJHweFueJMc8MpSZ75zRXCdkr4bkld0thjoZsEvRoq1DZv6-4eFs-WJHaiT9ssly5taCU_5t8yX61OKpUO_yIku2l1efBRFL4FNLz32/s1600-h/DSC09939.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037645985170722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKiE2_pq9guLSqRa2auvsXVvJGfV7W6DJv0NlNoJHweFueJMc8MpSZ75zRXCdkr4bkld0thjoZsEvRoq1DZv6-4eFs-WJHaiT9ssly5taCU_5t8yX61OKpUO_yIku2l1efBRFL4FNLz32/s320/DSC09939.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I bought the bus ticket to Udaipur, worrying the whole time it could be a scam.<br />I then roamed the neighborhoods around the area, trying to see the fancy homes of the city and the rich areas. Saw a Porsche dealer. Lots of high rises, and I was taking pictures of those. I stopped by the home that Gandhi used to stay at when he came to Mumbai. It’s a museum now, with photos of his time there and dioramas of his life. Neat after I just finished reading all about him in the book Freedom at Midnight. (pics: Gandhi talking to Rabindranath Tagore...in diorama form, Gandhi's room in the house he stayed in Mumbai, finally found Gatorade and placed it amongst some of the Mumbai skyscrapers, flyover in Mumbai with new buildings going up in the background)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH02vVMItGjs_NIro-CUmweoHZeaxETw37KVwkXoARhvZp_5MIPt6tOhLUJQa3K3dusxWLJiypNbUYgo_F8JFt73oocgaeEzQk0JB6ydSow1j-UTdgNN7D7z9TpM_8ediJpy8L1DTNl3Ne/s1600-h/DSC09951.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037639093887362" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH02vVMItGjs_NIro-CUmweoHZeaxETw37KVwkXoARhvZp_5MIPt6tOhLUJQa3K3dusxWLJiypNbUYgo_F8JFt73oocgaeEzQk0JB6ydSow1j-UTdgNN7D7z9TpM_8ediJpy8L1DTNl3Ne/s320/DSC09951.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDNVNczgZib_76CBXpPKHrmgnRDPnTzPB1i6suYPgafQHaS1zEzCuGABgumvKImT2WeZBAhO4dZYW4-YIdK72UmDiU_KIXywqtxqqrFnGIvijPcfHadw7C2wyeSIWoG9NSGC3d32Yv6dz/s1600-h/DSC09957.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272036488472261298" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDNVNczgZib_76CBXpPKHrmgnRDPnTzPB1i6suYPgafQHaS1zEzCuGABgumvKImT2WeZBAhO4dZYW4-YIdK72UmDiU_KIXywqtxqqrFnGIvijPcfHadw7C2wyeSIWoG9NSGC3d32Yv6dz/s320/DSC09957.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZACOTZO845BP1FhFtkN3-hhj3p22B91NVBvptQS7CvNO5ss5kDsj8WvXSyFgbpbG5nfPmJ4lPnolNiJLpR5_n79DRiVyWUhL24Jg0ihU-By5AO18wNIvtV5ASz7pgsFxFAhCsUcNPTX5/s1600-h/DSC09958.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272036495891481602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZACOTZO845BP1FhFtkN3-hhj3p22B91NVBvptQS7CvNO5ss5kDsj8WvXSyFgbpbG5nfPmJ4lPnolNiJLpR5_n79DRiVyWUhL24Jg0ihU-By5AO18wNIvtV5ASz7pgsFxFAhCsUcNPTX5/s320/DSC09958.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0R4lLzuVWFmrglvXhUgyOI1zjtJXl2-EeVWpOtOBizgtiYjxoXhjH-q4BmAwx_QPzMqjDyPPtZwg524DESQlKjzf25-XCSJ0ZTcb6W07j3NgvOeUjA0URS7Bnx-_P2HN1Q33xY-IoltC/s1600-h/DSC09948.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272037636030968450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0R4lLzuVWFmrglvXhUgyOI1zjtJXl2-EeVWpOtOBizgtiYjxoXhjH-q4BmAwx_QPzMqjDyPPtZwg524DESQlKjzf25-XCSJ0ZTcb6W07j3NgvOeUjA0URS7Bnx-_P2HN1Q33xY-IoltC/s320/DSC09948.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I was roaming around without any money, a tragedy in the nicest part of town (or a blessing?) I hadn’t exchanged more money yet, and couldn’t find an exchanger. It started to rain while I was still walking around. I had my umbrella, but already was soaked. Got lost going in a circle. Then thought I’d found a neat way out of it all, and ended going in a circle again! Three times I showed up at the same intersection. I was drenched. Looked for a bus to take me back, as the train station was far. Ended up taking a bus that someone said would take me back to a train station. Bus was jammed and everyone was wet. At the train, couldn’t buy a ticket on the platform, so just boarded, but again, no one checking tickets. (pics: Porsche dealer in Mumbai, it starts to rain at Kemps Corner in Mumbai while I'm walking, its starts to pour and I get soaked in one of the nicest part of Mumbai)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhz2CfJfeTp1b5LUVO_-ZUXDw2YtdSMsnjGVrHMvCqCshBelvmRn96gBNNQYQXMJIJ6sRxrDeNsiBjx_llFBS_gUyLsLYnBqdq1k76s-UPhiMnjBLJpcklCspglqduKh-zzew38kP5BHt/s1600-h/DSC09962.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272036494797659730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhz2CfJfeTp1b5LUVO_-ZUXDw2YtdSMsnjGVrHMvCqCshBelvmRn96gBNNQYQXMJIJ6sRxrDeNsiBjx_llFBS_gUyLsLYnBqdq1k76s-UPhiMnjBLJpcklCspglqduKh-zzew38kP5BHt/s320/DSC09962.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLX9QinD2LnmaZT-T60keABRRU79Bmqv0CuVX1mbE2LTQW9gtkEHB4gboXJ9Qp-zfOvFkwePQJN9zj7gR48lm7_ceiB5A9Man1xb75kHG8FV0hb2Y1D7tVerubEiRvGF91XIJwNFCI-HB9/s1600-h/DSC09963.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272036505642348818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLX9QinD2LnmaZT-T60keABRRU79Bmqv0CuVX1mbE2LTQW9gtkEHB4gboXJ9Qp-zfOvFkwePQJN9zj7gR48lm7_ceiB5A9Man1xb75kHG8FV0hb2Y1D7tVerubEiRvGF91XIJwNFCI-HB9/s320/DSC09963.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2QycKV1X65EIf28qCcRX65qk74rLRmoaJcGIVAmmqiKHQZz6omsohDUV5DBVZQ19rOqz2XluB5i8rBrzbFu2SimVLXW4Xno1SDMi_G0-QMDZIiY_1LCs6ZQY72zXQ1lvMG3yGvvjdvyw/s1600-h/DSC09966.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272036511013959938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2QycKV1X65EIf28qCcRX65qk74rLRmoaJcGIVAmmqiKHQZz6omsohDUV5DBVZQ19rOqz2XluB5i8rBrzbFu2SimVLXW4Xno1SDMi_G0-QMDZIiY_1LCs6ZQY72zXQ1lvMG3yGvvjdvyw/s320/DSC09966.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Uri and I went to dinner together. There he told me more about his program because I asked him lots of questions. Dinner was at a place which looked to be a Mumbai chain restaurant. We walked around town after that in the dark and Uri had a fun time joking with locals. Promised some food stall guy we’d come back for diner tomorrow.<div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-79185834527927052632008-11-07T10:30:00.011+06:002008-11-07T22:29:13.393+06:00Week 53: Fasting for Ramadan, heading to India, wrapping up in Bangladesh<span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-1st in Dhaka 9/3</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />Went by BUET today to drop off the bumper stickers to Dr. Ali, Shegufta, and Dr. Rahman. I had a final chat with Dr. Ali and thanked him profusely for helping me get here in the first place. Shegufta was ecstatic to get the bumper stickers, and I gave her enough to give to all her friends, including the three guys who helped me on the project. I showed Dr. Rahman my presentation and he gave comments on how to improve it for the conference. He had tips for me to prepare for the panel I might be on.After going to BUET I went to New Market to pick up some ties, some books for my upcoming trips (Angels & Demons and A Brief History of Time…two books I would realize later are slightly on the same topic), and to pick up my friend Amit’s tailored shirt which I had ordered, but it was not ready. I also bought some tuxedo shirt buttons, and overpaid for one set.<br /><br />This evening I headed to Farhan’s for Iftar. It was great that a lot of our friends showed up, even Ishita, who had come to see me for the last time. We had a good time, played guitar and sang songs, and they laughed about their many fond school memories. I wore my new beach shirt tonight. However, here, no one would associate it with a beach shirt, but rather with going to mosque, as it’s made of material usually seen in panjabis that men wear to pray. During my time there, I talked to Ayon about my upcoming trip some more, and what thoughts I had about whether to stay in India longer, or Bangladesh, and how to move around. I think we’ve worked out what I’ll do. (pics: Nipu/Faisal at Farhan's Iftar, Iftar fare at Farhan's, Ayon/Saquib/Farhan, myself/Ishita)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpiRodbUQstn5lejy6h_r1yi3AtKPDSbU_Jb5JPTDFQLbLHU5eNooxdAUY9hJ4dtSLf_EUAV5PFX0pcXd-kC5QhGlQIFGN-6I97nXzWKD2PDMt1xryrrHyzW60a3fJvTpEq2VgTsCENg4c/s1600-h/DSC09448.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781819551829570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpiRodbUQstn5lejy6h_r1yi3AtKPDSbU_Jb5JPTDFQLbLHU5eNooxdAUY9hJ4dtSLf_EUAV5PFX0pcXd-kC5QhGlQIFGN-6I97nXzWKD2PDMt1xryrrHyzW60a3fJvTpEq2VgTsCENg4c/s320/DSC09448.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLZN5JU8gYK8dY9fF30AlUNPSW2ULtevuRAjBNNAHDZuRzWtcvCNxKzgQNlophOhDDOiBrjlJd4wUtqY80sKMEmpArMZbOUqx1nQFa2MBnZSqoZunFkC7hGDYwG3glq62VSDShx7GdShi/s1600-h/DSC09449.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781817301951170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLZN5JU8gYK8dY9fF30AlUNPSW2ULtevuRAjBNNAHDZuRzWtcvCNxKzgQNlophOhDDOiBrjlJd4wUtqY80sKMEmpArMZbOUqx1nQFa2MBnZSqoZunFkC7hGDYwG3glq62VSDShx7GdShi/s320/DSC09449.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJsN6NppMNK0eBNU3SeQvOwtPEp5BsV83WiHhpNLI3vXQOHyV6WRRIjghEIQ6fTa-O0dPiHHpLrbYnyRtEYQX7WAO9Nu9EmA1f7EmiWS1NKONpL2xVGvXdOIbxEIDcSFZU82W2T4knsu5/s1600-h/DSC09457.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781811839491698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJsN6NppMNK0eBNU3SeQvOwtPEp5BsV83WiHhpNLI3vXQOHyV6WRRIjghEIQ6fTa-O0dPiHHpLrbYnyRtEYQX7WAO9Nu9EmA1f7EmiWS1NKONpL2xVGvXdOIbxEIDcSFZU82W2T4knsu5/s320/DSC09457.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiWlFh5P3AY5SmJAWmaD4r5WHIc3cxbFX6c4nnepE09wGsSMYNCO5rwS4Sa8TF2UV1iLnDcfDcLPYbiDkA1Htd2sfHg2GS1hkUDpZXrL3O3jYxf6kewgSuiwOaNXGzQomeC9DXMUCVl6R/s1600-h/DSC09451.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781815117910290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiWlFh5P3AY5SmJAWmaD4r5WHIc3cxbFX6c4nnepE09wGsSMYNCO5rwS4Sa8TF2UV1iLnDcfDcLPYbiDkA1Htd2sfHg2GS1hkUDpZXrL3O3jYxf6kewgSuiwOaNXGzQomeC9DXMUCVl6R/s320/DSC09451.JPG" border="0" /></a><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After dinner, I left, and Nipu came with me. I headed toward Malibag, in an effort to take a picture of an “_FC” sign. Well after finding it, he took me by rickshaw to his home, insisting I stay for a bit. I was tired, but obliged, as his home is one of the few I have yet to visit, plus I made him go find the “_FC” sign with me. At his home he gave me some fruit and I talked to his uncle for a bit, and later his mother, before he took me home by his own car.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-2nd in Dhaka 9/4</span><br /><br />Today, packing commenced full steam. I had only gotten some done, but it was time to get all my bags, especially those that I won’t need for India and Southeast Asia packed up. This also included packing up a box to ship home via FedEx. My room is an utter mess. (pics: my house is a mess as I empty out the almirah, boxes with stuff to bring to FedEx to ship and a scale to weight them first)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmDn9jXw3raRHoTFi7SVZAc0erAkoP8JbxmK7ewOkB2LM7ivFXvSlmJ_clVlFLQNkTECZ06zxA8GUy63qUfgX0QajDKcWdDJn9eJfTRdqk4SKhFt4obJohHnwvngwruQ4Ku5Cpuwc_X4z/s1600-h/DSC09468.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781606915432034" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmDn9jXw3raRHoTFi7SVZAc0erAkoP8JbxmK7ewOkB2LM7ivFXvSlmJ_clVlFLQNkTECZ06zxA8GUy63qUfgX0QajDKcWdDJn9eJfTRdqk4SKhFt4obJohHnwvngwruQ4Ku5Cpuwc_X4z/s320/DSC09468.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1yDxLTgyWF0Bt1QaHtiWXV_93o3dQINmaiiIlupJkmjrKlgm2Ov_yntvaJb5KnEWgzhOOf8IqV6duX9tXoIpHCXXWCd4Ol0L3cR3bkQLa_zeA1eB1BJ7DWKJeNA8dU0U0KDFZQWpaANb/s1600-h/DSC09469.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781600723739874" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1yDxLTgyWF0Bt1QaHtiWXV_93o3dQINmaiiIlupJkmjrKlgm2Ov_yntvaJb5KnEWgzhOOf8IqV6duX9tXoIpHCXXWCd4Ol0L3cR3bkQLa_zeA1eB1BJ7DWKJeNA8dU0U0KDFZQWpaANb/s320/DSC09469.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Today I returned the almirah that I borrowed from Ashrafi. I had to arrange a van and a rickshaw to get it there. Was a bit tough as one guy said he would go, and then changed his mind just as I was ready to take down the almirah with him, saying he didn’t have enough time and things to do later in the day. So I found another rickshaw van driver, and he helped me out. I also found two other random rickshaw wallahs to help me out as well, as we needed four sets of hands to bring it down the two flights of stairs. They took over, and I just assisted as directions were spouted in Bengali. We finally got it down, and strapped it to the rickshaw van. The rickshaw wallahs said I could just sit on top, and there was no need for them. So I paid them, more than I’d liked to, and I was on my way with just the van driver and myself. Arriving at Ashrafi’s brother’s place of business, where the almirah would stay, I’d realized I’d left one of the keys for it at home, would have to come back again. But we unloaded quickly, and the van driver took me back home.<br /><br />I had a fight with my landlord today over the rent. I had told her a month back that another Fulbright would take my spot in October, and thus the landlord didn’t arrange for anyone else to live there. Well recently that Fulbrighter told me she wouldn’t stay here, and when I told the landlord this, they told me I’d have to cover the month of rent they would not be able to get from her now. I was angered and refused, saying they still had one month to arrange a new tenant.<br /><br />I set out to FedEx to ship my box. I got a rickshaw to bring me there, and watched as the FedEx employees repacked everything I had into an amount of space I didn’t think was possible. I used their special 25kg box which is a set price, and the best value for that weight.<br /><br />I went to Annita’s for Iftar, and Ayon and Auvi were there too (this is now the 3rd Iftar in a row I’m having with Ayon.) The Iftar food was amazing, I really gulfed it down and would’ve taken more but we had a delicious dinner on the way. We spent the time before and after Iftar looking at photo albums of Annita's family, from her youngest days to the present.<br />Her grandfather was a great man to meet. I really enjoyed the short conversation we had before he went to mosque. He made me laugh and I enjoyed his insight. (pics: Annita/Ayon at Annita's for Iftar, Auvi/Annita during Iftar, myself/Hridoy/Auvi/Annita looking at pictures from Annita's childhood)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrziE5QMI0Ghz7hE6x0PSD8iWhufpLKMjlrLs_fGiivcIpL1WiD0PKMVVqB2Gjd4mcimAUwiO7mqvg88xUPQCEHifQAA0T4HXoGldtlULZZsNSMN-F8hyphenhyphenkJJqAZJTirNSk5nIDa_RtMMmP/s1600-h/DSC09477.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781592825647442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrziE5QMI0Ghz7hE6x0PSD8iWhufpLKMjlrLs_fGiivcIpL1WiD0PKMVVqB2Gjd4mcimAUwiO7mqvg88xUPQCEHifQAA0T4HXoGldtlULZZsNSMN-F8hyphenhyphenkJJqAZJTirNSk5nIDa_RtMMmP/s320/DSC09477.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnrDXjRNnWQnp9eKrepHgx_CMMhp8Z_8foh5vNRJVKqEWQkKL6piVD0MIIn7BeOaZ79npBTXcoVpwHr6pjfOU_UZE43ho3-iGjAjyAKj5GbvsvClnpd-ziApYg_uusVSGZSR-reQkcdo9h/s1600-h/DSC09479.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781591821655266" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnrDXjRNnWQnp9eKrepHgx_CMMhp8Z_8foh5vNRJVKqEWQkKL6piVD0MIIn7BeOaZ79npBTXcoVpwHr6pjfOU_UZE43ho3-iGjAjyAKj5GbvsvClnpd-ziApYg_uusVSGZSR-reQkcdo9h/s320/DSC09479.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmzeK9vS6huz_nQBZOw6I86-BhI6zrcGzZu9iT1_e8DnRYNDfLQKeONUJ-N3rH63n0i6yet24xxfmTxp6o0zae8SSaApg_TFSsHL-NkKiVCvj2BLXrwuFl1pcr0WrDzPKtc1DUwi_d8I5/s1600-h/DSC09483.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781586124501730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmzeK9vS6huz_nQBZOw6I86-BhI6zrcGzZu9iT1_e8DnRYNDfLQKeONUJ-N3rH63n0i6yet24xxfmTxp6o0zae8SSaApg_TFSsHL-NkKiVCvj2BLXrwuFl1pcr0WrDzPKtc1DUwi_d8I5/s320/DSC09483.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />When I got home tonight, I dropped in to the flat of the guys’ downstairs. They offhandedly invited me to Sehri tomorrow morning, so I told them I’d come. Would give me a chance to finally to do a real fast for Ramadan. What had been holding me back up until now was that I didn’t have anywhere to eat for Sehri.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-3rd in Dhaka 9/5</span><br /><br />Today is one year in Bangladesh.<br /><br />When I showed up downstairs this morning at 4 AM for Sehri, it was pretty clear the guys had not expected me to show up. They were surprised to say the least, and rushed to ready me a plate of rice, mashed potatoes, and fried potatoes. It was neat to see what they ate, on their limited student budgets, in order to last the day. No one seemed tired, and we talked even after we were done eating.<br /><br />I finally decided how I was going to handle the end of my India trip, and I booked a plane ticket on Indigo from Delhi to Kolkata, early enough that I could still catch a bus back from Kolkata to Dhaka. It had gotten more expensive since last night when I had last looked at it, and figured I needed to commit.<br />I also figured out the final trains I will take in India, and made notes on their seating offers and costs, so I could book it all when I got to Kolkata.<br /><br />I met up with Toma, and we headed out to get two photos of the “_FC” places I needed to capture, as well as drop off the keys to Ashrafi’s brothers. We had a good time on the buses we took, and chatted a lot. (pics: when your rickshaw is broken this is how you get it to the repair shop, one of the many _FC signs I've colleced and will post a mural later)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmB18LBEB5j6pTRK5Ij5ZdFVSWoRHn2quZYf17q3EEcjL158GxIBzSFUpuMw4Ki1M0AlSKy3dBhRpvTsd7wZZ73ygJZUAAv75LmNvMnJJvoNt_QekjZfspwJDrrJz4OsY7XjPBefkuUT9h/s1600-h/DSC09510.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781335271145106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmB18LBEB5j6pTRK5Ij5ZdFVSWoRHn2quZYf17q3EEcjL158GxIBzSFUpuMw4Ki1M0AlSKy3dBhRpvTsd7wZZ73ygJZUAAv75LmNvMnJJvoNt_QekjZfspwJDrrJz4OsY7XjPBefkuUT9h/s320/DSC09510.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59ifR6jb44lx7fLF9itlwCC4BJ0dJJ0UlH79EpD-oXGQUiQ0Lk2z1BcU2yI2DOAgwC4S-30m02u6URLtE8aUqiHw4ZCSwyqgf_LQn38HSkqQJLcr1X6xyv4OMmSOLcQ4ulT5Ku5SKrGhu/s1600-h/DSC09508.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781338398752130" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59ifR6jb44lx7fLF9itlwCC4BJ0dJJ0UlH79EpD-oXGQUiQ0Lk2z1BcU2yI2DOAgwC4S-30m02u6URLtE8aUqiHw4ZCSwyqgf_LQn38HSkqQJLcr1X6xyv4OMmSOLcQ4ulT5Ku5SKrGhu/s320/DSC09508.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This afternoon I had a quick freakout. I thought that I had lost my passport. All day people have been coming in and out off my house to look at it, now that the landlord has put it on the market, and usually in groups of two and three. They’re always accompanied by the landlady or their son-in-law. Well one time I was discussing something with the son-in-law and didn’t watch the visitors. They left, and about an hour later I realized I couldn’t find my passport. Or my credit card! Freaked out. I thought it was gone, stolen by the visitors. Ran downstairs to my landlord and told them what I thought had happened. Ran back up, and soon my landlady arrived telling me to calm down, assuring me it’d be okay. We looked more, but couldn’t find it. I was upset, hysterical, knowing I had to leave the country in a few days…and both items were critical to that. I was shaking. She tried to comfort me. Meanwhile her whole family came in, and her grandson was playing with everything. I asked if they could leave, as it was just stressing me more. They left, and it was just her and I again. While I was frantic, she slowly looked around. She found it, all of a sudden, she found it. In my thrice over search of my room I had missed a pocket in my luggage, and she had found it and inside was both my credit card and my passport. I had hidden them earlier because of the visitors. I was just on the phone with the US embassy to report it stolen, and hung up. They called back later to ensure that I had actually found it. This evening, I bought my landlady and her family sweets to thank them for dealing with me.<br /><br />After freaking out over the passport, I rushed to Pizza Hut for what was to be my goodbye dinner and Iftar. I had called Ayon and Farhan freaking out already, and they were relieved when I told them all was okay, and they could proceed to Pizza Hut worry free.<br />I got there early to reserve a table as the Iftar special days at Pizza Hut get packed. While I waited I filled out postcards to send back home.<br />Pizza hut was a blast. The all you can eat pizza was amazing, I had 8 slices, and some guys hit 9 and 10. Some people at other tables looked to top 20, but they usually leave the crusts behind. A nauseating, but fun, way to end my fast. I had kept the fast of Ramadan all day long, not eating or drinking a thing. It wasn’t so bad. But pizza is a hard way to fill your stomach after fasting. I will do it again tomorrow, same thing.<br />I gave gifts to all my friends, a small thing for each of them. Bangladeshi flag patches, BUET bumper stickers, books, and baseball and football cards. It was tough to say goodbye tonight, as I knew for some it’d be the literal last time I was seeing them. (pics: Saquib taking pictures of all the postcards I was writing, Nipu/myself upset at the amount of water we are served to break our fast, Faisal/Ayon and others eating the unlimited pizza at Pizza Hut's Iftar special, Auvi/Ayon/myself/Farhan/Hridoy/Saquib/Opu/Faisal/Nipu at Pizza Hut)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvx5LevfnuGMl6jSgUtJvJ9o61Z0sJfh3VPs3VDY1E0kVBegGDlbrZKwOzXmseYJoxdfhCFxnTUH92pd93jlb41fl2KK4-XU_Y3tvsqEKeqjvOocBE7lozE7IMfUUxl1iCET3FJMhZv2cS/s1600-h/DSC09514.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781335548557090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvx5LevfnuGMl6jSgUtJvJ9o61Z0sJfh3VPs3VDY1E0kVBegGDlbrZKwOzXmseYJoxdfhCFxnTUH92pd93jlb41fl2KK4-XU_Y3tvsqEKeqjvOocBE7lozE7IMfUUxl1iCET3FJMhZv2cS/s320/DSC09514.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxi6WEqqOfc1a6jhmtW73TG9zdLyVJYfzBHAb97-f1wMmQw_LJQmHipkkQa9yKnq9WqExM9jowmqvFke8QhCqHMTkjp522PPrWyMsuQKB4axNf7hC8v18n2CeFq39LRQ-W1BKiLVGf51dK/s1600-h/DSC09524.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781331731123650" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxi6WEqqOfc1a6jhmtW73TG9zdLyVJYfzBHAb97-f1wMmQw_LJQmHipkkQa9yKnq9WqExM9jowmqvFke8QhCqHMTkjp522PPrWyMsuQKB4axNf7hC8v18n2CeFq39LRQ-W1BKiLVGf51dK/s320/DSC09524.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtz4Dx3wotZ-u25WrqynJbap5rM69lGJSPiWDNu-sZpolb7HVDG6jFw5vOIKOkKq1I6bozKrutkhXTb_hyHAqfblPyWZPMqOYw7pXi1k5824ykG_uH1wAnD6eEr-OvZLoJLfClTA39P1z/s1600-h/DSC09540.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781330672335458" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtz4Dx3wotZ-u25WrqynJbap5rM69lGJSPiWDNu-sZpolb7HVDG6jFw5vOIKOkKq1I6bozKrutkhXTb_hyHAqfblPyWZPMqOYw7pXi1k5824ykG_uH1wAnD6eEr-OvZLoJLfClTA39P1z/s320/DSC09540.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90X41ToM5KjUquiGamP5sab3Op2XZyqjoCgWEb4kpwLNKlH2tlP7zgYC5h8H01_US3zhk-CG5CSldEqtUDkeUf5BYq2IXMW_3MiJ3Mxfa1eMjTq4_rCpVw_Y-c9bRqU-qeERmnXr6xGUe/s1600-h/DSC09550.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781111573969458" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90X41ToM5KjUquiGamP5sab3Op2XZyqjoCgWEb4kpwLNKlH2tlP7zgYC5h8H01_US3zhk-CG5CSldEqtUDkeUf5BYq2IXMW_3MiJ3Mxfa1eMjTq4_rCpVw_Y-c9bRqU-qeERmnXr6xGUe/s320/DSC09550.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And if anyone is keeping count, this is the fourth night in a row that I’ve had Iftar with Ayon! I sure must like that guy.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-4th in Dhaka 9/6</span><br /><br />I got up early again for Sehri today. As the guys knew I was coming, they had made a slightly better meal, including some chicken. We had a great time laughing and joking around, taking photos of each other, and telling funny stories, before heading back to our respective beds. (pics: one of the guys living downstairs eating Sehri (he's the cook too), 4AM Sehri myself/Mehedi/Rabi, the guys who live downstairs during Sehri)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAAYm6ZZ6ZL7vAvLevwMdGmS3e1yoVJDKl6BX_-eG5w_kr6gKRqfrxiWiu3z8G39q0Eiy7oNbwa6jiynfN5Cz66yCRDiqIkP82qPjSFHmPDc95SuG8QdVoCJw_2cKPIbni1bRadIepF_W/s1600-h/DSC09568.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781101663333026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAAYm6ZZ6ZL7vAvLevwMdGmS3e1yoVJDKl6BX_-eG5w_kr6gKRqfrxiWiu3z8G39q0Eiy7oNbwa6jiynfN5Cz66yCRDiqIkP82qPjSFHmPDc95SuG8QdVoCJw_2cKPIbni1bRadIepF_W/s320/DSC09568.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ud6Gu_U6XM1ywe580larpsoNn54gZQJD9KfdAQs2CpA45tGJ-5q5vX0PsSnNghr6eFlYeXUSXlgpPS7drRGbESNZOdxkIYlGEW5ZCKCAWYMl7zOv9iis_pk9KRcBzU65fOlcy7I2RZWJ/s1600-h/DSC09559.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781105825212866" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ud6Gu_U6XM1ywe580larpsoNn54gZQJD9KfdAQs2CpA45tGJ-5q5vX0PsSnNghr6eFlYeXUSXlgpPS7drRGbESNZOdxkIYlGEW5ZCKCAWYMl7zOv9iis_pk9KRcBzU65fOlcy7I2RZWJ/s320/DSC09559.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zM_HQ-8DM_CYB2jh4HwZZbzteGQtU52tbx9eBokPOXZqwBKbEUg-Ams2wPI_wm7p46hFdvPAxyA2QDk1E3n6al7aD4qetrmm8egNs6qRVlODsfHIqMGVUY9oDIGUUoyJtejm-e2Q7teY/s1600-h/DSC09573.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781098124461554" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zM_HQ-8DM_CYB2jh4HwZZbzteGQtU52tbx9eBokPOXZqwBKbEUg-Ams2wPI_wm7p46hFdvPAxyA2QDk1E3n6al7aD4qetrmm8egNs6qRVlODsfHIqMGVUY9oDIGUUoyJtejm-e2Q7teY/s320/DSC09573.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Today I fasted again for Ramadan, it was no harder than yesterday.<br /><br />I finished my packing today, and everything is set for India and heading home a month later. I sent a second box via FedEx. Had to pay a bit more for the standard box as my stuff was too big for the special rate box. Then they made an error in calculating the price, and I will have to come back later for my refund. I tried to pay by credit card in the first place, and I should’ve known I was in for some trouble when they pulled the credit card machine out from some drawer, actually had to dust it off. Three of them then fumbled around with it, a bit confused on how to work it.<br /><br />I went over to Farhanaz’s and Diya’s for Iftar. I dropped off the weight scale and my laptop for them to hold on to while I was in India. Don’t want to take any risks with it while I’m gone for so long. Oyon came by, and it was really cool to see him after such a long time. Took some photographs of Farhanaz and her daughter Zara.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuEPa4w0Pil-OnKoQ0W39PoC4Xeeo7ZgdvwrO3uVvdpkJU_ARG1HQdsNoGIK64gbSyWub06P_DA1WUasqA1loWGsTjvYPU_7muARozxCS7Khc2SvOgjEoQPF4ttZPQfDaSeE8W3BwJ9os/s1600-h/DSC09576.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265781098294353714" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuEPa4w0Pil-OnKoQ0W39PoC4Xeeo7ZgdvwrO3uVvdpkJU_ARG1HQdsNoGIK64gbSyWub06P_DA1WUasqA1loWGsTjvYPU_7muARozxCS7Khc2SvOgjEoQPF4ttZPQfDaSeE8W3BwJ9os/s320/DSC09576.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBdYi0e437cWLjUTJqBvIVcz45VwQkQuRDF4W8zfnP3eikjvw105fcqsKEfcse8ej2nF80Utl0CqWp9F-DZdxFxJ0t0mLxeEs5nxwsGhj3QpRC0GVX_XcAQ0252ZCWX_460JSLm6sWB_j/s1600-h/DSC09577.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780923804680994" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBdYi0e437cWLjUTJqBvIVcz45VwQkQuRDF4W8zfnP3eikjvw105fcqsKEfcse8ej2nF80Utl0CqWp9F-DZdxFxJ0t0mLxeEs5nxwsGhj3QpRC0GVX_XcAQ0252ZCWX_460JSLm6sWB_j/s320/DSC09577.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pics: Farhanaz/Zara, myself/Farhanaz/Zara)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Sometime in the middle of the night, Mehedi came by and picked up my floor fan, It was really late at night, and I almost thought it was dream.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-5th on train to India 9/7</span><br /><br />This morning I set off for India, excited and full of anticipation. All of my planning was about to unfold. Even with a small stomach problem, the ride was fun, and I enjoyed watching the Bangladeshi scenery go by on a very nice train (Indian train in fact.) Because the trains travel twice a week, the Bangladeshi train would be returning today from India, while my train, the Indian one, which spent the night in Bangladesh, was heading back.<br /><br />What was a highlight for the trip was crossing the Jamuna Bridge, my final time, and this time by train. It felt like we were hanging over the edge, as I could see straight down to the water. (pics: signboard on the Dhaka-Kolkata train, heading over the Jamuna Bridge, looking out over the Jamuna River from the open train door, the drop down to the water from the train door)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHahelQ31Y_1jk4bx2bIDPow6yAqfY6mVd8DUT0nzsdyhu2NR7ojrYYMW8BHHpr4v0VWkE96rEv4iqozWEXD03WaxpvVtbiqC3MSSe8X6jUdRwxE0_2_a4SMes8MEfF9k2jAtuV7lBGtsu/s1600-h/DSC09581.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780922724096546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHahelQ31Y_1jk4bx2bIDPow6yAqfY6mVd8DUT0nzsdyhu2NR7ojrYYMW8BHHpr4v0VWkE96rEv4iqozWEXD03WaxpvVtbiqC3MSSe8X6jUdRwxE0_2_a4SMes8MEfF9k2jAtuV7lBGtsu/s320/DSC09581.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcq3Qk1_w4mGyUxLrObPbzCzDqlASsWA1MmLMIts3m7QZkIS8qf11s-Uru1I6CF86YTGjHGm4J3pX1wnQQkaa0xSMWWQsmctohqXAUtlQ3oIaHZsPZ4WVZ2s3ifl04aZL68E6XCxefAU0g/s1600-h/DSC09583.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780918272759442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcq3Qk1_w4mGyUxLrObPbzCzDqlASsWA1MmLMIts3m7QZkIS8qf11s-Uru1I6CF86YTGjHGm4J3pX1wnQQkaa0xSMWWQsmctohqXAUtlQ3oIaHZsPZ4WVZ2s3ifl04aZL68E6XCxefAU0g/s320/DSC09583.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavkpkN9lvcATBHWHNTeBuRYaijqQT-TGp3E50O_sIfI2dpreqRmfr-0wCWt8xM99H01PRKLONYgPpPl4gjEKgqaS-6DbKjOR10zvpW71yGAL-vzgPTMK9LYWpkzfXzR2uIXEU7uXwoGo9/s1600-h/DSC09586.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780915643275858" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavkpkN9lvcATBHWHNTeBuRYaijqQT-TGp3E50O_sIfI2dpreqRmfr-0wCWt8xM99H01PRKLONYgPpPl4gjEKgqaS-6DbKjOR10zvpW71yGAL-vzgPTMK9LYWpkzfXzR2uIXEU7uXwoGo9/s320/DSC09586.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvrlZ1o29ZuKHIU6eWOCHdZfkWZ5xOsDHLeKRYuv9gdbePtKV1AgtjP9piSDXKguNqZ0J69PCmQ5J8Xe9An4YHPvL0roqJjpaqumlpp4WdSTnOUD-hpUSXj4lymhuv7LOAaOA6LvxwD81/s1600-h/DSC09587.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780551684648066" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 240px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvrlZ1o29ZuKHIU6eWOCHdZfkWZ5xOsDHLeKRYuv9gdbePtKV1AgtjP9piSDXKguNqZ0J69PCmQ5J8Xe9An4YHPvL0roqJjpaqumlpp4WdSTnOUD-hpUSXj4lymhuv7LOAaOA6LvxwD81/s320/DSC09587.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The train was pretty much empty, perhaps only 40% filled. I was surprised, and guessed maybe it was because of Ramadan. Talking to some of my fellow passengers, I was told that the train is usually this empty. As explained to me, it is because of the way Bangladeshis get visas for India. In order to travel to India, I was told that they have to enter and leave through the same border post, specified on the visa. So in order to take the train, which runs only Saturday and Sunday, one has to stay all week in India in order to comply with visa regulations. It makes it difficult to take the train, and for this reason ridership is low. But the rumor amongst the passengers is that they might add two more trains a week, making it easier to do this trip on a visa.<br /><br />The border was kind of neat. The train stopped in these gated off stations, in which we disembarked, processed our visas, and boarded again. There were giant gates across the train tracks, that swung open when the train came up. We had to sit at these stations for a short time even after we finished, as the train is allotted enough time in the train schedule for a full load of passengers, but as we finish quickly, we had to sit and wait and leave on schedule.<br /><br />I arrived in Kolkata at its new train station, the third largest in the city. A taxi brought me through the new streets by meter to get me to the backpackers area of Sudder Street. At dinner I got to reencounter how much more expensive India is to Bangladesh. I had a simple Bengali meal and it was 50% more than it would cost in Dhaka.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">53rd-6th in Kolkata 9/8</span><br /><br />The first goal of today was to buy my bus ticket back to Dhaka in 2.5 weeks, and buy all my train tickets for my international travels around the country. First up though was to get a SIM card. I dropped into a hole in the wall mobile store to get the SIM. While there, two guys dropped in and I recognized them from my train ride yesterday. They were Bangladeshi and we all started chatting how we like Dhaka better than Kolkata from what we’ve already seen/experienced (not much.) It was a great time, and since the mobile phone guy was so slow, we had a half hour of conversation. One of the guys was even coming to the US next year to visit his sister in Philadelphia. They had come to India to purchase some machinery for their textile business. (pics: handpulled rickshaws in Kolkata, yellow taxis of Kolkata)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AykogLXOkaOeMG2rfPploXeAFfnH7UfM0wFwf-hnfcM2wg7CfCZSrRwbKIJmz2P8ejYYsp4q-3Z_hd_phF-yp3ShOGtLVN1oVhJNjtbEo1FMW10ZxSTMGVstNTFYpioDZnB4XXYLEGX9/s1600-h/DSC09604.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780554722081314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AykogLXOkaOeMG2rfPploXeAFfnH7UfM0wFwf-hnfcM2wg7CfCZSrRwbKIJmz2P8ejYYsp4q-3Z_hd_phF-yp3ShOGtLVN1oVhJNjtbEo1FMW10ZxSTMGVstNTFYpioDZnB4XXYLEGX9/s320/DSC09604.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXvXoqN7hMHjJjFIV2G7NqT6iet2LO_OgqCejJR2QWS_dMCIj8V0pC42nCO8NHV70UVqbnSBscdYBCXcpH9Rphwc00i_22qg7SoQVAXvyzDj5ZKlf3SJvX7nwTPnhifqWvwPBl8bTWWWz/s1600-h/DSC09605.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780914329411042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXvXoqN7hMHjJjFIV2G7NqT6iet2LO_OgqCejJR2QWS_dMCIj8V0pC42nCO8NHV70UVqbnSBscdYBCXcpH9Rphwc00i_22qg7SoQVAXvyzDj5ZKlf3SJvX7nwTPnhifqWvwPBl8bTWWWz/s320/DSC09605.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I bought the bus ticket after shopping around three different operators running to Dhaka, all Bangladeshi owned companies. I bought a mid-morning bus at 10am on the 24th, so I could get back to Dhaka that night, and have three full days in Bangladesh. My flight from Delhi gets in at 8am, so I would have no problem making the bus.<br /><br />I tried to buy my train tickets from an agent, but all the trains, except for the foreigner tickets, were filled. So I’d have to go to the train office to book them directly. I was nervous that the trains were entirely sold out, and I’d be stuck in places longer or shorter than I wanted, and causing havoc on my schedule<br />At the train ticket booking office, there was to be a counter only for foreigners, and sure enough, there were crowded lines for all other windows except the foreigner line. I was able to get all six of my train tickets, at that one counter, for all over the country at different times in the next 2.5 weeks. The only train ticket I had to get that I would not have preferred was for my first train trip, where I had to buy the lowest class sleeping cabin as that was all that was left. While there, a little girl and her father and mother were also getting tickets. They were Bangladeshi and the girl had a conversation with me while I bought my tickets.<br /><br />I got some lunch streetside, and walked through several markets, one which apparently was the toy gun market. I circled through the governmental area. Absorbed being in Kolkata. (pics from my walk around Kolkata: the famous Eden Gardens cricket stadium, tea served in disposable clay cups, the toy gun portion of the market, looking south on BT Sarani, Kolkata buses all have matching color schemes, a man sleeps at the side of BBD Bagh)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgW71HYSQ19zlkBBSrdLkI-ETwy_eeAF9okBGcPBN0LZ9REOM32_ua3edXlofxYAEeu4NzX6JPxQ4wgZLfbeanSFSRQenjxWpJBPAevvZYGufDpObBAoIPr9a75jHG5MxpE-_q6zVdHdc6/s1600-h/DSC09609.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780550726464258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgW71HYSQ19zlkBBSrdLkI-ETwy_eeAF9okBGcPBN0LZ9REOM32_ua3edXlofxYAEeu4NzX6JPxQ4wgZLfbeanSFSRQenjxWpJBPAevvZYGufDpObBAoIPr9a75jHG5MxpE-_q6zVdHdc6/s320/DSC09609.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hyphenhyphenn3GNUaG1K0TRWyNViXWTZ7vQOjsFoxF6RQuZL4lW67z6BE3qE4PfCkTKaCbSb4O_b4oDWutdXeUX3vBsmz7x25a06UIqyJATtSRWd0OAskTuCYPcT4qGHd4jq4oN4b_pBZZ66r6_tb/s1600-h/DSC09613.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780550777434562" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hyphenhyphenn3GNUaG1K0TRWyNViXWTZ7vQOjsFoxF6RQuZL4lW67z6BE3qE4PfCkTKaCbSb4O_b4oDWutdXeUX3vBsmz7x25a06UIqyJATtSRWd0OAskTuCYPcT4qGHd4jq4oN4b_pBZZ66r6_tb/s320/DSC09613.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWH7z2pZSi6-_ATf8wV7e3pa5F0k3Z2Zw_aJNfZl9odu4crTo7e_ekgDAp7jYNDRX6w2CSluOeWFZHgNyMXpGoXoT_OCxx-NtQeDRcOuxHPcZUhdCD1rMfcMAzTRAWYKfBQNN-h5pXyFL/s1600-h/DSC09620.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780545366710802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWH7z2pZSi6-_ATf8wV7e3pa5F0k3Z2Zw_aJNfZl9odu4crTo7e_ekgDAp7jYNDRX6w2CSluOeWFZHgNyMXpGoXoT_OCxx-NtQeDRcOuxHPcZUhdCD1rMfcMAzTRAWYKfBQNN-h5pXyFL/s320/DSC09620.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDg0ZAEP6a3dMgQlJDSFi1FBYQM0cDZF7NwMpeHHvjBYly7BbDQwTL5kzDJjgN1bv1uPMxNUKCyWII_rt-6B4v0LHDElw2hSIeAXRirnk8DcErsD5GfHtZRwd3Vn_-i1Gb8XUXZXs4sqL_/s1600-h/DSC09626.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780329255029442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDg0ZAEP6a3dMgQlJDSFi1FBYQM0cDZF7NwMpeHHvjBYly7BbDQwTL5kzDJjgN1bv1uPMxNUKCyWII_rt-6B4v0LHDElw2hSIeAXRirnk8DcErsD5GfHtZRwd3Vn_-i1Gb8XUXZXs4sqL_/s320/DSC09626.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDApkzx96gVyxMUuLUJhO1aPG8Yxnw_jImGGCrAorYdCNfBaHKda7hjOLCdWBLR8nJqmEfWZDIUflTTx-z-dMkv0q9OCYgW-Nyu7NPQB4JpNXW_CT4fpgARFO0TcOLyU3W_DHnL7sYBob/s1600-h/DSC09633.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780326853685602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDApkzx96gVyxMUuLUJhO1aPG8Yxnw_jImGGCrAorYdCNfBaHKda7hjOLCdWBLR8nJqmEfWZDIUflTTx-z-dMkv0q9OCYgW-Nyu7NPQB4JpNXW_CT4fpgARFO0TcOLyU3W_DHnL7sYBob/s320/DSC09633.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-39IsWW7n5o5wSwZE8pv-tUkVxRg973SIm11CliDUOKtnzj3a9pClVv8DYe7b75zshfdQgjp_-_Uweh35jBOeFqcnbL_DmXikQBKNQHLAktF1dyhn2enalBaK2Wtn6C2__mw3weHGik-/s1600-h/DSC09634.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780327493401282" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-39IsWW7n5o5wSwZE8pv-tUkVxRg973SIm11CliDUOKtnzj3a9pClVv8DYe7b75zshfdQgjp_-_Uweh35jBOeFqcnbL_DmXikQBKNQHLAktF1dyhn2enalBaK2Wtn6C2__mw3weHGik-/s320/DSC09634.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I ended up walking along the riverfront park, which was broken up into three connected sections. Sat at spots, took photos of the Hooghly Bridge, and relaxed after a day spent running around.<br />I took my first Indian local bus. The buses are all running under a consistent coloring scheme, and have printed fares inside the bus. It is much more structured and cleaner than what can be found in Dhaka. I was able to find a bus by reading the outside, and knew how much to pay once inside. (pics: Hooghly Bridge, myself in front of the Hooghly River and bridge, commuters waiting to catch the ferry to Howrah Station, rush hour in Kolkata along Strand Road)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5PCcapzcaE7ouulCLQiBEz_K4fWPIapQ92h0WjYtgH_HXjBRWE9sKQoi5k9wdBpK5hl-enaD5_VBFttvpTr3hPpPThdyJscMqYal-Ac_EExymwVdV4qxYBaUXiE6_Vavjt-X49XFW_pg/s1600-h/DSC09652.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780315628258178" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5PCcapzcaE7ouulCLQiBEz_K4fWPIapQ92h0WjYtgH_HXjBRWE9sKQoi5k9wdBpK5hl-enaD5_VBFttvpTr3hPpPThdyJscMqYal-Ac_EExymwVdV4qxYBaUXiE6_Vavjt-X49XFW_pg/s320/DSC09652.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnSp1PZwL8SWgE_1RI0maAKlWo6yXyPp-5n4I5Ej48y9drjh2cd-El4Mo-d3dQjXzYxyvzLLbbgRYU9D7-NmnDwXHR0bsG3UX09pCa1mShAx1bpQHpUpwIIPoGThuxAk2eCw_yfBtJkHY/s1600-h/DSC09651.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780318824074242" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnSp1PZwL8SWgE_1RI0maAKlWo6yXyPp-5n4I5Ej48y9drjh2cd-El4Mo-d3dQjXzYxyvzLLbbgRYU9D7-NmnDwXHR0bsG3UX09pCa1mShAx1bpQHpUpwIIPoGThuxAk2eCw_yfBtJkHY/s320/DSC09651.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNDMjOCAGOFRbuNOUulllNP1Bo3BAvqi3lWk8pE4iU2E9CqnIDbQ98RXC2CqDscpXJK54N1VQYeMGY4aKAYoDmObQPEpH61vPgryYvDwSCdaLalL5ihfzdIaT5KE16SANe0B6gT-bFpQR/s1600-h/DSC09654.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780065948557330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNDMjOCAGOFRbuNOUulllNP1Bo3BAvqi3lWk8pE4iU2E9CqnIDbQ98RXC2CqDscpXJK54N1VQYeMGY4aKAYoDmObQPEpH61vPgryYvDwSCdaLalL5ihfzdIaT5KE16SANe0B6gT-bFpQR/s320/DSC09654.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyw2toFJrOfiwmi6dxUbx6LfxqSAEW1uaXY1ZOR6qLJ3fKR6PG9OLkNGKK38Zz4jcVzm2seYCajcY_1ucJqnVVJo1NNtMDa5qn_jron6ST2CH0HILcmALYFMWVUE-A9PotW3j59TgyiBhp/s1600-h/DSC09656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780064590951922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyw2toFJrOfiwmi6dxUbx6LfxqSAEW1uaXY1ZOR6qLJ3fKR6PG9OLkNGKK38Zz4jcVzm2seYCajcY_1ucJqnVVJo1NNtMDa5qn_jron6ST2CH0HILcmALYFMWVUE-A9PotW3j59TgyiBhp/s320/DSC09656.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After dinner, I decided it was time to fix up an issue that’s been bugging me for over a year: a whole in my pocket! I’ve lost countless amounts of coins, and I decided I was done with that. I went to a tailor shop, and asked if I could repair it. They handed me some thread and threaded a needle for me, and I quickly laced up the hole with my shorts still on. Complete, I thanked them, offered a tip, they refused, and I went on my way.<br /><br />I had to post this picture as well. It is an advertisement for GMG Airlines, the first private airline in Bangladesh, which provides excellent service. The sign clearly states that the airline travels to Dhaka, Chittagong, Kolkata, Delhi, Kathmandu, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, and Dubai. However the airplane is clearly pictured flying over New York City, which the airline does NOT fly to. So an educated passerby can certainly infer that GMG pilots get very lost on their routes...or the company has a sketchy marketing department (pic: read above paragraph)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tlq2x-ySv3r-1dVEO-LjLZPTzzW9Ay7xUDJ1BOf1pcKy6i4mropG3AJnEQr34ROoAAFszPKTzPwbv5xP3hcZ7cMkJHWS8o5LtSxEt9rNwjtrqs8LMXmDViSohPmaPGgkJv6unZb8oXfi/s1600-h/DSC09659.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780059281276274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tlq2x-ySv3r-1dVEO-LjLZPTzzW9Ay7xUDJ1BOf1pcKy6i4mropG3AJnEQr34ROoAAFszPKTzPwbv5xP3hcZ7cMkJHWS8o5LtSxEt9rNwjtrqs8LMXmDViSohPmaPGgkJv6unZb8oXfi/s320/DSC09659.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />53rd-7th in Kolkata 9/9</span><br /><br />There was a long list of sites I had wanted to see in Kolkata before I even cracked open a tour book. This is because many of my friends had already spent time here, and I had learned a lot about the city from them.<br /><br />First up, I had heard about a famous Chinese streetside breakfast served up at a morning market in Kolkata, first come first serve until its gone, every morning. I asked a taxi driver if he knew about it, and we both decided to head to Chinatown to find it, but it wasn’t there. Chinatown was just five Chinese restaurants in a row, all closed up as it was morning. His next guess was the Chinese Market, and as we arrived I spotted a few “stands” of Chinese dumplings and soups. I got some dumplings, ate them on the street, and they were good. But I had had a stomach ache since waking up, so soon I was feeling nausea. That was a bummer to the day a bit. (pic: Chinese breakfasts being served at the Chinese Market where I ate this morning)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95B63BXWQIyepslkzlHzTtb3MqwJW8CfWHSba0JK0Zs9lX45p4pSUzwj8o0Ym3OFIqnHKhLuxVPLeD3r22e0YJpj41A4bEPsLaWIw_LGWK5cobdRZaEh4Zx8HhcEXeTYcgE85fDeK-L59/s1600-h/DSC09661.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780054157931218" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95B63BXWQIyepslkzlHzTtb3MqwJW8CfWHSba0JK0Zs9lX45p4pSUzwj8o0Ym3OFIqnHKhLuxVPLeD3r22e0YJpj41A4bEPsLaWIw_LGWK5cobdRZaEh4Zx8HhcEXeTYcgE85fDeK-L59/s320/DSC09661.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I headed over to the next place I had wanted to check out. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Coffee_House#Coffee_House_at_College_Street">Indian Coffee House</a>, which was famous to me because of a popular song that we had listened to for homework in my Bengali classes. Megan had taken photos of it when she visited last year, so I knew that it was an unimposing place, with a tiny sign, hidden on a streetscape. Took me about fifteen minutes to find it, and was very impressed when I walked inside. Despite the misleading exterior sign, the inside looks as big as a movie theater with high ceilings and the floor dotted with tables. I ordered a cold coffee drink and enjoyed it while I watched the place slowly fill up, I had arrived just 10 minutes after opening. Soon it was filled with young students talking. It earned its fame, and the song, as it was the meeting place for the greats of Kolkata’s cultural elite, intellectuals, artists, and revolutionaries. It was neat be within its walls. I hummed the song to myself. (pics: Indian Coffee House's tame exterior, Indian Coffee House's glamorous interior)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnK2LdhA9ta13CGy5FGRM02-a5N6lqztdqe40qEss4_7CYw9_-fjZoTCKJLCdk_chTmYy2fGAQCoX2S1RPN-fMmf1gtOSXTMEapL5M42SrDXjT_wGDRU1Je30bitt_QJozODX3kCT0EbPN/s1600-h/DSC09673.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265779788093439922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnK2LdhA9ta13CGy5FGRM02-a5N6lqztdqe40qEss4_7CYw9_-fjZoTCKJLCdk_chTmYy2fGAQCoX2S1RPN-fMmf1gtOSXTMEapL5M42SrDXjT_wGDRU1Je30bitt_QJozODX3kCT0EbPN/s320/DSC09673.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjGrgZxA52e3KaUmV-BP49cFXCPMYJM4F0EwrKy6eZMIwU_FcsV_VlbRILSzYLJQVaFG7S6Vrm5wrKA4aLVcJ4jWw7Cvw1dVC3btYjf1OukKw0BOvLj6XcWNOYenCSinebWRvLUK5eng-/s1600-h/DSC09669.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265780049208155922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjGrgZxA52e3KaUmV-BP49cFXCPMYJM4F0EwrKy6eZMIwU_FcsV_VlbRILSzYLJQVaFG7S6Vrm5wrKA4aLVcJ4jWw7Cvw1dVC3btYjf1OukKw0BOvLj6XcWNOYenCSinebWRvLUK5eng-/s320/DSC09669.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Next, I headed over to <a href="http://www.indianetzone.com/6/tagore_house.htm">Rabindranath Tagore’s birthplace</a>, a house just north of the center of the city. It’s more of a mansion, sprawling over a large area, and has been turned into a museum about the famous Bengali poet and writer, and his family who also had an incredible array of accomplishments in many fields. I wasn’t allowed to take my camera inside, but that’s okay, as the place is gorgeous from the outside and not really photogenic inside. The exhibits weren’t laid out in any way that made sense to me, and I roamed about, slightly confused. I had been looking forward to seeing this a lot, however, and I did feel I understood the famous Nobel Prize winner much better after the visit. (pics: exterior of Rabindranath Tagore's home with the inset showing a closeup of the statue of him in front, myself in front of the Tagore house)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FMqbEhD5lMRkRuyrAfcDEi7hvphX73p7YgTvN__L1oxongGkRU-LP6q1_E-tkkqvgncDjrSJ3_p_GplbBmJwqk2MlCTcI5fbnM9GQ8Bg2885iuYFrBvcbjwnBqiDNZFnvvs4KO0mLwZc/s1600-h/DSC09678.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265779792640233490" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FMqbEhD5lMRkRuyrAfcDEi7hvphX73p7YgTvN__L1oxongGkRU-LP6q1_E-tkkqvgncDjrSJ3_p_GplbBmJwqk2MlCTcI5fbnM9GQ8Bg2885iuYFrBvcbjwnBqiDNZFnvvs4KO0mLwZc/s320/DSC09678.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iBBA4aGEGicxMEtbyTqs94KeonK7IfdC3OCwfqq6HeuRZxV3PR05bz_foVZixI0BsdJbIVhSj15EFRwcJrJJHIyjo-iLf0asvC00eA8RHr-Bo45kOx72c8qbdaPOuMAKbREcuyO3sANO/s1600-h/DSC09680.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265779792016515074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iBBA4aGEGicxMEtbyTqs94KeonK7IfdC3OCwfqq6HeuRZxV3PR05bz_foVZixI0BsdJbIVhSj15EFRwcJrJJHIyjo-iLf0asvC00eA8RHr-Bo45kOx72c8qbdaPOuMAKbREcuyO3sANO/s320/DSC09680.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />One of the highlights of my day was getting to ride the Kolkata subway. I’d read about it, as its construction, in a place where the water table is very high, is a bit of a marvel. Plus it was dug out entirely by human labor! It only has one line north to south, but I saw signs for a new east-west line advertised around town! The subway’s fares were easily understood and purchased, and I boarded the fairly crowded subway. Upon getting off, I took some photographs of the subway pulling away, and some of the signage. Well I was caught. A security guard came over to me while I was standing waiting to take some pictures of the next train, and told me to come with him. He brashly escorted me out through the turnstile, and asked me to read to him what a sign said. I read aloud “No Photography.” He stood by my side and watched me to delete all the photos I had just taken, one by one. Then he told me to leave the station. I obliged. I was afraid I was going to get arrested.<br /><br />I found this neat, first world looking, café for lunch, and was excited to see items such as avocado and turkey on the menu. I was excited to give in my order. Well about 5 minutes later a server came out to me and told me that avocado and turkey were not available. So, just like in Bangladesh, I was eating a chicken sandwich with the same old toppings.<br /><br />I went back and took a nap. I was feeling a bit sick still, and exhausted from all my walking around. I headed over later by bus, which ended up being harder than I thought, to see the light show at the Victoria Memorial. I arrived finally, and tried to find where the show would be. The guards I asked however told me that tonight it won’t be playing because it rained today. Well I roamed the garden anyway, and found the musical fountains, and sat and watched two performances of that, which was free and really relaxing, despite my stomach problems. I walked home afterwards, through the posh part of Kolkata’s urban shopping areas. (pics: musical light fountains at the Victoria Memorial, Victoria Memorial at night)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhSOLFF1VRZdzHF1nana7xWow4qEewPfQyJglzQg842mCUbEaiSFC5NoOeJndZDrkuHpEdaRfAJhb78i9i9zkLMpfSSXIA_-IShQLJAjgIybWO9jGQ-hylTeWsJfIVZEvUykJtQWKJf-s/s1600-h/DSC09688.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265779797506006546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhSOLFF1VRZdzHF1nana7xWow4qEewPfQyJglzQg842mCUbEaiSFC5NoOeJndZDrkuHpEdaRfAJhb78i9i9zkLMpfSSXIA_-IShQLJAjgIybWO9jGQ-hylTeWsJfIVZEvUykJtQWKJf-s/s320/DSC09688.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5o51Q5zIHl7A7OxTXdXCoE8fYHXygV3dLs2rumxLZPEpuE28-oq5pZxc_yrqjzIhXKznXb215XBeGQ2M5A273dGaNn8rbmEfCLLvZHXxc_EP0Z-qM1ZDrXJur5UJGUuVXgi9KhKDbuBV/s1600-h/DSC09698.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265779798473205730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5o51Q5zIHl7A7OxTXdXCoE8fYHXygV3dLs2rumxLZPEpuE28-oq5pZxc_yrqjzIhXKznXb215XBeGQ2M5A273dGaNn8rbmEfCLLvZHXxc_EP0Z-qM1ZDrXJur5UJGUuVXgi9KhKDbuBV/s320/DSC09698.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had a small, lighter dinner, as best as I could. I really felt nausea, and didn’t want to make it worse.<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-21482880434885444102008-11-03T00:07:00.011+06:002008-11-03T20:23:36.606+06:00Week 52: I FINISH MY DATA COLLECTION, and some packing and goodbyes<span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-1st in Dhaka 8/27</span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />I woke up early this morning to do my fantasy football draft. I was real excited to finally have the season start up again. I had been waiting for week. However, there turned out to be some problems. An unexpected issue on how we had organized the league turned up, an issue with how certain players were retained by our squads. Many of us left the draft with sour spirits, and felt they were cheated by the system. Others were ecstatic. Ultimately, enough complaints were made that I emailed ESPN.com who we run the league through, and they advised us we could reset the draft. So we did this, and set it up for a few days from now.<br /><br />I did two data collections this afternoon, both on Bishwa Road in Rampura. After the first I headed to get lunch, and called up Farhan to come by and meet me. He agreed to come meet me at a hotel near where I collect my data. I had almost finished eating when he arrived, and it was raining, so we got some Sprites and a small snack and sat and chatted.<br />We then roamed the area for a bit before it was time to do my next data collection. To my surprise, he offered to help. He stood there with me the entire hour I was collecting data, helping me when buses came by too quickly that I couldn’t catch their names or times. All the ticket counter workers who know me well were excited to talk to him as well, and they got in some intense discussion about jobs and education in Bangladesh.<br /><br />From there both of us took a bus down to Malibag. He got off first, and I stayed on a bit longer to get to Shiddeshwari. Tonight I was meeting Anwar and Sanjana at her home. Meeting them was great, as I’ve mentioned its been months that I’ve known them but had yet to have a real conversation. I had a great time talking about my experience, where they stay in California, graduate school, and a slew of other topics related to Bangladesh. I also gave her father some bumper stickers, as he is also a BUET Civil Engineering graduate. When they headed home, they offered to drop me, so we had another half hour at least of conversation in the car as we had lots of traffic to get through. It was a great time getting to know Anwar and Sanjana better. I promised them I’ll visit when I finally make my way to northern California.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-2nd in Dhaka 8/28</span><br /><br />In the morning I did a data collection at the Rampura bus stand. The ticket collectors on both sides of the road in Rampura are definitely the most friendly of all the ones I’ve gotten to work next to in Dhaka.<br /><br />Today I did the #6 two-door Motijheel-Banani bus twice. Very hard. I saved this bus to the end of my research because of how hard I’d knew it be. It combines the challenges of a two-door bus, meaning counting two doors at once, and a local bus, which has people hopping on and off at all points of the route and long stops where people show up unpredictably. Very VERY hard. And it lived up to my daunting expectations. There were times were my head was spinning trying to keep track of everyone, and all that was happening. The bus has itty bitty seats, so I was cramped and uncomfortable too. Honestly, I chose the hardest way to finish my research, but the truth is I could not have handled this earlier on.<br /><br />I had some great meals today in Gulshan at places I hadn’t eaten a meal at before. I had breakfast in Gulshan at Words n’ Pages. It was a two-story bookstore, but to my disbelief (and surely my librarian mother’s) they turned the second floor from a small café/additional bookspace into a full restaurant. So now it’s a one floor bookstore with a restaurant upstairs. Anyway, I went to see if they had anything I can eat for breakfast. And I ended up getting an egg and cheese and a tomato and cheese sandwich. Looking forward to a bagel though.<br />For lunch I tried out a new restaurant in Gulshan-2 called Tarbush. I was the only one there at 4pm, but the manager was at a nearby table, and he freely shared with me how he decided to make this restaurant, and what he’s been up to for his career. Also shared his thoughts with me on Dhaka’s problems. Good lunch conversation. But the food was incredible. The mango-banana smoothie was out of this world and was a large size for its price. The french fries and onion rings platter was delicious, and very cheap. And the sandwich, although a bit more expensive, was big, and was served on bread baked right at the restaurant. The best bread I’ve had in Dhaka. This place gets two huge thumbs up. Except for the “deck” overlooking Gulshan-2 though, the place looks pretty boring. But as long as you sit on the “deck” you have a good time, the seats and tables are “logs”.<br /><br />On the way home from the last bus, some guy talked to me the whole time. At first it was nice, but then he began asking me to “take [him] to America” and was very insistent on it. No matter how times I told him he needs a visa, and that attaining one is difficult, he insisted I could just take him because I can just say he’s my friend when we arrive at the airport. These types of conversations never get resolved.<br /><br />Tonight I talked to the guys downstairs about how we’ll handle the money for the things they are buying. They came up to my room later on my invitation, and we laid out how it would work. I hope they commit well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-3rd in Dhaka 8/29</span><br /><br />With Friday off from work, I wanted to go and make the gifts for my tailor and the owner of the store out front of my apartment building. They were both very friendly and helpful for the tasks I asked of them during my stay, and I wanted to say thank you in a lasting way. I had managed to get photos of both through my time here, and so I wanted to bring them to a framer to give as gifts. I would write a thank you message in Bengali in black marker in the white space between photos. For my store owner and his nephew Hamid I was additionally going to include a one dollar bill inside, like you see hanging on the wall inside the stores of American small businesses.<br />I couldn’t find a frame at Rifles Square, and disappointed and I started walking back home. On my walk I inspected each shop closely to see if they had frames, and it was then that I noticed a framing store I’d never seen before. I went in, and they were glad to make it, and it was much less than what even the tiniest pre-made frames at Rifles Square cost. I asked them if they could turnaround the tailor’s frame in an hour (I wanted to give it today), and they said sure. So I gave the photos and they set to work doing what I described.<br />I went back to the framing store, where I had to write the message inside, and then they could finish the framing process. I brought it to my tailor on what was to be my last time seeing him. However, my friend Amit had also requested a summer beach shirt like Ben and I had got, so I knew I’d be seeing him at least once more, but probably when I was too stressed to deliver his gift. On arriving, I got my clothes, and tried on my last suit and my sportcoat. I gave him the order for Amit’s shirt, and he said he would get it done before I left for India. Then I gave him the frame. He smiled and thanked me, and I hope he hands it in his store. (pics: the framer in his shop preparing my gifts, the frame I got made for my tailor as a gift)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYfWUF2H27YmjsXeoQIJARnEvFPaQVtwbMN6KD9Hoz3ollMhg-lDtszMZgBxPDpaBnu0GeI0N7alE_V-jwSajdiYLR1YhQf00A9OrGaWUvmSJsHnHubOsALwwKnXzX7HrY185GPNsjytZ/s1600-h/DSC09355.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299459095695858" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYfWUF2H27YmjsXeoQIJARnEvFPaQVtwbMN6KD9Hoz3ollMhg-lDtszMZgBxPDpaBnu0GeI0N7alE_V-jwSajdiYLR1YhQf00A9OrGaWUvmSJsHnHubOsALwwKnXzX7HrY185GPNsjytZ/s320/DSC09355.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwFP_bYIsmHNDWjggRtBuqqNaAcldM7n6rCaVeJYraek6Jc6zDMc5rCMV2nfUoh-JIiYRxLtQmOCeB5eFv5Ucfzy3rTsbhNSzmJmn74XMr8ANtjl2LbBtPInIxOU5GdBEVDViSJfYlTQ9/s1600-h/DSC09359.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299342864082738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwFP_bYIsmHNDWjggRtBuqqNaAcldM7n6rCaVeJYraek6Jc6zDMc5rCMV2nfUoh-JIiYRxLtQmOCeB5eFv5Ucfzy3rTsbhNSzmJmn74XMr8ANtjl2LbBtPInIxOU5GdBEVDViSJfYlTQ9/s320/DSC09359.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I dropped by Diya’s at some point and picked up a weighing scale that I would use to weigh all my boxes before I shipped them.<br /><br />Ayon, Farhan, and Hridoy came over in the afternoon, and we hung out for awhile before heading over to Kozmo Lounge. Tonight, Dipto (Ishita’s brother) was performing a concert in promotion of his new album. We arrived at 6pm, as the lounge advertised this as the time. We knew he’d start later, but I just hoped it’d be before 8pm, when I had to leave for a dinner invite. The four of us were met also by Saquib, and the five of us had a fun time hanging out for two hours. All got some coffees and/or cake. Dipto showed up around 7pm, so I was hoping I’d get to see him play. But alas, as I was leaving at 8pm, he was just getting on stage. So I missed the entire performance despite waiting 2 hours to see it. Felt bad. (pics: inside Kozmo overlooking Dhanmondi Lake just after sun set, Ayon/Hridoy at Kozmo waiting for the show, Farhan/Saquib at Kozmo waiting for the show, Dipto doing a sound check for the show I missed because I had to leave for a dinner invitation)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBTtnUF-WkhDl1P_shQJ8z480CjLDKS2VMDV4OHGWl29WnoRlJjDR74ICi2RZLBcTDtFDFmhoM1_Y2FWw6mtB7KhFqtUGbgpklLFyir-tAbG51vWqBl0Ogp3t0m300CtoCBJh9ppSaicy/s1600-h/DSC09373.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299357386399266" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBTtnUF-WkhDl1P_shQJ8z480CjLDKS2VMDV4OHGWl29WnoRlJjDR74ICi2RZLBcTDtFDFmhoM1_Y2FWw6mtB7KhFqtUGbgpklLFyir-tAbG51vWqBl0Ogp3t0m300CtoCBJh9ppSaicy/s320/DSC09373.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiziTntr74hmULO6qSBRZTqluzerB9xD4_bHq2x5o7r4xAHGNdMQDS2XIIfFyy1K7myH8lg9ab0AfFsKu_ZkZz8zsrzDRPQoemwZgqXcXWMyEn_PjA2gpHvKoOjSilF4KelC1r4-ATWQkm/s1600-h/DSC09364.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299350469510322" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiziTntr74hmULO6qSBRZTqluzerB9xD4_bHq2x5o7r4xAHGNdMQDS2XIIfFyy1K7myH8lg9ab0AfFsKu_ZkZz8zsrzDRPQoemwZgqXcXWMyEn_PjA2gpHvKoOjSilF4KelC1r4-ATWQkm/s320/DSC09364.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyR_Hed762_V7wektuO5NGcqXN7mLVAE3TDVgtCuLgnisUOTyyIahyphenhyphenuPy_GfMe1DcUe2eGhedalI6UWpQP94P8e6MAx2vO7_qzz5310ep6s6cBY7ztFKuNbf4yL8yyiHy1lketZQDNJUt/s1600-h/DSC09381.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299359295631106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyR_Hed762_V7wektuO5NGcqXN7mLVAE3TDVgtCuLgnisUOTyyIahyphenhyphenuPy_GfMe1DcUe2eGhedalI6UWpQP94P8e6MAx2vO7_qzz5310ep6s6cBY7ztFKuNbf4yL8yyiHy1lketZQDNJUt/s320/DSC09381.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FiWP_4IX0oTgDdW0Gummot7C0mQRWzGvAiqiNhqJL6yNeFcMtMcr4_MiwVy-LM4xbfH10UUgfB1hUCGoref4taqm-2M7mvZO8kDhecTjC4pyrCaXAeZmw1xNii92EmKmcHykF7NmwCls/s1600-h/DSC09384.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264299359523007378" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FiWP_4IX0oTgDdW0Gummot7C0mQRWzGvAiqiNhqJL6yNeFcMtMcr4_MiwVy-LM4xbfH10UUgfB1hUCGoref4taqm-2M7mvZO8kDhecTjC4pyrCaXAeZmw1xNii92EmKmcHykF7NmwCls/s320/DSC09384.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had been invited to Mohan’s home for dinner, my last time to see him. His wife prepared an excellent meal which I had several platefuls of. Mohan’s brother-in-law, who I visited once at his leathermaking college, was also there, and it was great to reunite. As well, Bapi, who used to live upstairs, was over, along with his wife and son, who I’d actually never gotten to meet as they were frequently at his village. Lastly, Shibly came by, and I got to see him one last time. A great evening. We enjoyed watching some Bangladeshi TV shows, as well some Mr. Bean episodes. I took some photos of Mohan and I, as well as his wife and her brother. Mohan and his wife spent the entire time trying to get her brother to spend the night, despite his insistence that he had to go back and study. (pics: Mohan with his son Rehan, Mohan/myself, Mohan's brother in law Mamun/Mohan's wife)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6n3qF49rdSVxnAPtPmAvL8GJC4EJ6UbOAXrNMezmvo-BHMb4OHRX66fnPI8_IB3U7JkEP0c8IHVgMJK3PrbCFCUwSgf-8ID7xQXyjIb_2yQ3i_twCOyB-yXSZVd2ydVywYe4WSLvtyTU/s1600-h/DSC09386.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298372734557490" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6n3qF49rdSVxnAPtPmAvL8GJC4EJ6UbOAXrNMezmvo-BHMb4OHRX66fnPI8_IB3U7JkEP0c8IHVgMJK3PrbCFCUwSgf-8ID7xQXyjIb_2yQ3i_twCOyB-yXSZVd2ydVywYe4WSLvtyTU/s320/DSC09386.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFnyR58fa-DHrbEjUjRHW90g2DilgdsZQuXrlHhJZyN-7PHBYBGwmfgDk7E7I63uTKUlAAyBOJ_kam1CCpriVz73QjW4A3s3d8Z31svGqL2uvzM2VFiTxrqsdpvdyooYDowdIm2RXMCv9/s1600-h/DSC09387.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298378535412194" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFnyR58fa-DHrbEjUjRHW90g2DilgdsZQuXrlHhJZyN-7PHBYBGwmfgDk7E7I63uTKUlAAyBOJ_kam1CCpriVz73QjW4A3s3d8Z31svGqL2uvzM2VFiTxrqsdpvdyooYDowdIm2RXMCv9/s320/DSC09387.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfHHFGdLiCifg5mR6SsLRj6RT6dhGvNE12RTR_0PDEj0cERB9QZNkWJ231grHSh0495Lt8T6u-ePRrQ0xOMGj_RwSgQ8Y4Oww6ErwRyuleG89Uu4e6ZS_k1xbYUUwI3DSz_zHRD31fmE4/s1600-h/DSC09392.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298388073505506" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfHHFGdLiCifg5mR6SsLRj6RT6dhGvNE12RTR_0PDEj0cERB9QZNkWJ231grHSh0495Lt8T6u-ePRrQ0xOMGj_RwSgQ8Y4Oww6ErwRyuleG89Uu4e6ZS_k1xbYUUwI3DSz_zHRD31fmE4/s320/DSC09392.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-4th in Dhaka 8/30</span><br /><br />This morning my boua became strongly insistent about my floor fan, saying she wanted it and would pay whatever the guys downstairs wanted to pay. Well I told her a promise was a promise, and I gave a promise to them first. One half hour after she left, she came back with Tk300 in her hand! She insisted I take it. I politely refused. Finally she took my hand, stuffed the cash inside, and left. The whole time she had a huge grin on her face. During and afterwards I could only grin too.<br /><br />I dropped by Nando’s to ask about what they will be serving for their Iftar special starting in a few days, but they wouldn’t tell me. I tried guessing, but she wouldn’t budge on her stance of ignorance. Obviously they know it, but are keeping it a secret. Wily.<br /><br />This afternoon I met up with Toma for lunch. She had suggested a restaurant on Road 27, inside this art museum. She had gone there for merely a snack before, but she said it was nice. Well it was nice inside, but the food and the service were horrible. Worst restaurant I’ve been to in Dhaka. For Tk120, we received just four small pieces of chicken inside way too much curry for the two of us. I was insulted. I made sure they had gotten the order correct…and they had. Four cubes for two people.<br />We then headed to Aarong, where I picked up some gifts for friends back home. The rickshaw wallah commented on the way over that I knew how to get around Dhaka better than Toma did. We stopped by the framing store after and I picked up the frame for my store owner and wrote the message inside before they sealed it up. (pic: the frame I got made for the store owner and Hamid in front of my home tailor as a gift)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8G82-AGs5h-bzWOQAd_34A5RJ-OtoHim3Sggj8MHtxvDuMapEwsDE1bAhzzY8Vhmt22RTylHC0UP88aA_PKk_OZ1pNY6QNDR8NArNlMRv_b9yodvRlRC1G-sVQGcrE5od43vGfKeblBa/s1600-h/DSC09394.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298388176569490" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8G82-AGs5h-bzWOQAd_34A5RJ-OtoHim3Sggj8MHtxvDuMapEwsDE1bAhzzY8Vhmt22RTylHC0UP88aA_PKk_OZ1pNY6QNDR8NArNlMRv_b9yodvRlRC1G-sVQGcrE5od43vGfKeblBa/s320/DSC09394.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I worked on getting ready to leave, packing up some of my stuff, and moving what I knew I would ship. The place is becoming quite messy with just a week to go.<br /><br />I went over to Tamzid’s home for dinner. His mom served us dinner, even though his father hadn’t made it home yet. I couldn’t stay too long as I had to get a bus back. After dinner I waited to say goodbye to his father returning home, and meanwhile we watched The Daily Show, which I haven’t seen all year. They were reporting on the Democratic Convention, and it had me bent over in laughter.<br />I took the #3 bus home, and to my nice surprise, the bus conductors and driver were the ones I had ridden with recently for my research and had had lunch with. He recognized me quickly, although it took me a few seconds to place the faces. It was very cool to “know” the bus staff, I felt “in.”<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-5th in Dhaka 8/31</span><br /><br />I did my last curbside collection this morning, in the blaring hot sun that had me sweating as it beat down on me.<br />I then swung back to Farhan’s home, where I would have breakfast this morning. I took a bus down to the Malibag railroad crossing, and decided I would try walking down the train tracks, just like most people do in Dhaka. Despite Farhan warning me not to do this, I figured there was nothing bad that could happen, except getting hit by a train. I knew the portion by his home was not cramped with squatters. Well it was difficult to walk on the rail sleepers as they were spaced oddly and I couldn’t take normal steps, only short ones as long ones were way too long. And I missed his street, as I had gotten into a rhythm of walking on the sleepers, so I had to backtrack (no pun intended.) Breakfast was delicious: parota, omelets, and cheese as well as some sweets left over from the last holiday. He showed me the video of him performing at his university last week. (pics: train passing by while I was walking on the train tracks with people riding on top with giant pots of food, people walking with me on the rail sleepers, train coming down the tracks near Farhan's home, train pasing by as I walk next to the tracks)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQkMb9gnZuSV3pr5dhkQwKnyIGSvOnMwvh8aI6_LOcsQdtobe6Mzo7ZkHTdP5QYbI8Y4f9VRiOCU2BiseR1xtSF_jXmB2ID-bFjTkwWvKE3Q2ibSCpqHFOAi-jvnrwnIgujTUlqClnlqg/s1600-h/DSC09403.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298071978794754" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQkMb9gnZuSV3pr5dhkQwKnyIGSvOnMwvh8aI6_LOcsQdtobe6Mzo7ZkHTdP5QYbI8Y4f9VRiOCU2BiseR1xtSF_jXmB2ID-bFjTkwWvKE3Q2ibSCpqHFOAi-jvnrwnIgujTUlqClnlqg/s320/DSC09403.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWT4CfA0EZ2_L-c5caspfVpPdhWefGB_WU4q4sBpn_p6SlIoZxxMdvH-RQigMmbfFwYvdLx_qcwwd7Ab7PRiPMlUny05gnDm20i4lf2UjVJPOhNwBi70ObG6jFW954c6DIdXxUOgPUJzo0/s1600-h/DSC09398.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298392092652498" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWT4CfA0EZ2_L-c5caspfVpPdhWefGB_WU4q4sBpn_p6SlIoZxxMdvH-RQigMmbfFwYvdLx_qcwwd7Ab7PRiPMlUny05gnDm20i4lf2UjVJPOhNwBi70ObG6jFW954c6DIdXxUOgPUJzo0/s320/DSC09398.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ22E1aPllg_w0SEdBURiafgiWV-FVMHH7jcFifDyu1_f7WEKqmP1GnhoVASLZpIm6S31qO7sERUeeeCAn-nHZ7jSOZdqHH4xlg52usbSYrMan6-9vSpSGfeBl4hjQVg2UvV7owoT507bZ/s1600-h/DSC09400.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298058904820274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ22E1aPllg_w0SEdBURiafgiWV-FVMHH7jcFifDyu1_f7WEKqmP1GnhoVASLZpIm6S31qO7sERUeeeCAn-nHZ7jSOZdqHH4xlg52usbSYrMan6-9vSpSGfeBl4hjQVg2UvV7owoT507bZ/s320/DSC09400.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcA1nAT06ERBPsLifevH1OMOo36AijRfdQRcXDXfvQW-5Jgak-fEjQytF8g2fNbhC_Mj5NKnvAJZ5W_u3MmeiFA7qKePD4zxZwq2R3kRjfTJ6UxkPwQAWo8LiTyxDXabgRTEQ6rU0t13Z_/s1600-h/DSC09401.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298073580718754" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcA1nAT06ERBPsLifevH1OMOo36AijRfdQRcXDXfvQW-5Jgak-fEjQytF8g2fNbhC_Mj5NKnvAJZ5W_u3MmeiFA7qKePD4zxZwq2R3kRjfTJ6UxkPwQAWo8LiTyxDXabgRTEQ6rU0t13Z_/s320/DSC09401.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After this I left and rode the number 6 bus twice. It was hot, unbearably so. I felt horrible and did not want to be on the bus. I noticed my heartbeat was racing because of the heat. Plus there’s the bodily stress of having to lean out the window the entire time. It wears on me. Luckily this bus I rode twice wasn’t cramped for the seat I’m in. But the pain from leaning out the window was still bad.<br /><br />The best part of the afternoon was having lunch with Toma at a restaurant in Mohakhali. She works nearby so we first went to Citycell to transfer over my wireless card account to her and her sister who will take it over. We reduced the amount of monthly data allowance as they won’t use it as much as me.<br />We then headed to the restaurant called “The Newsroom.” Its just east of BRAC University on the second floor. It was clean, modern, and had great decorations. The food was out of this world, with a lot of neat selections that I’ve never seen before in Dhaka. It’s neat to still be finding new great restaurants popping up. Apparently this owner is also the old owner of A&W, and he said A&W will reopen soon. (pics: the inside of the great new restaurant The Newsroom, the food there looks and tastes great...I really liked the place)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3HoPz5k53t4zOfoAgcUPQ6U0po9Sl8lOvQj6VLbx-eIgxA_Xl-zJ3523WWj4NGUa-S4vSuCrFrSm0Bx4l6m5HF6kyFADEsCRrNKkiq1mcf_pRNY1DqFIXEJWFeaAj1pCMunsWvLDfG3X/s1600-h/DSC09409.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298077701863010" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3HoPz5k53t4zOfoAgcUPQ6U0po9Sl8lOvQj6VLbx-eIgxA_Xl-zJ3523WWj4NGUa-S4vSuCrFrSm0Bx4l6m5HF6kyFADEsCRrNKkiq1mcf_pRNY1DqFIXEJWFeaAj1pCMunsWvLDfG3X/s320/DSC09409.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIsMcUO8fwZUC_chIaku9S6VGyFt0hIZ0VwY6SCYbgWisJSIybEIKlhsfhOg-IFoenZFBAhbaaWZwf15ECSJqX7-6Kapjf_zzkJkZeTb0dqUyfTUIYbt3DJcbeY8FOhdhtug5iQYpDKwq/s1600-h/DSC09411.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264298082593947858" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIsMcUO8fwZUC_chIaku9S6VGyFt0hIZ0VwY6SCYbgWisJSIybEIKlhsfhOg-IFoenZFBAhbaaWZwf15ECSJqX7-6Kapjf_zzkJkZeTb0dqUyfTUIYbt3DJcbeY8FOhdhtug5iQYpDKwq/s320/DSC09411.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I spotted these boys flying kites in a field with construction materials. I’ve been trying to capture this very popular Bangladeshi pastime for awhile. (pic: boys flying kites in a field of construction materials)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOG4TuyR-YsmdxJfOixXFE2K9-ziEXHWCNXCwt5Goydf4oKS79Lf_So2Ku0ezdzMWKDrBGgqL97D1efx7aFEASRt42ak8W0gL_P-j3g7_qd3h_lD6kp-sXwkZqB95m9w1L9L3Rq1vR1K9/s1600-h/DSC09414.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264297773701616674" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOG4TuyR-YsmdxJfOixXFE2K9-ziEXHWCNXCwt5Goydf4oKS79Lf_So2Ku0ezdzMWKDrBGgqL97D1efx7aFEASRt42ak8W0gL_P-j3g7_qd3h_lD6kp-sXwkZqB95m9w1L9L3Rq1vR1K9/s320/DSC09414.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I had dinner at Nafisa’s Aunt Sylvy’s home. I hung out with Ishfaq and Ishraq and her before dinner. She told me about Nafisa’s paternal uncle and his family and how they are faring in the US. It was good to hear an update on everyone. She informed me of Nafisa’s plans to return to Bangladesh, how her husband is, and the like. Dinner was delicious as usual, and she sent me home with some cake that she had made just for me.<br /><br />Tonight I spotted a lizard eating one of the cockroaches in my house. I was so proud of it, I took its photo. (pic: lizard running away with a resident of the cockroach motel in my boot)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUj9lqQ5VgCjhyofA2siOW-lcv0yl46nE72GskfmFj827R3u9w7Pw5XVwobqlNEMdtst-xIXqA8tH6Wf7FJE2EG8J5Pn2OXN0N_drhnEvUbC6FaBD5j1FdutkgOy3AjuXBaLctUhLTQJIK/s1600-h/DSC09420.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264297777858301858" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUj9lqQ5VgCjhyofA2siOW-lcv0yl46nE72GskfmFj827R3u9w7Pw5XVwobqlNEMdtst-xIXqA8tH6Wf7FJE2EG8J5Pn2OXN0N_drhnEvUbC6FaBD5j1FdutkgOy3AjuXBaLctUhLTQJIK/s320/DSC09420.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-6th in Dhaka 9/1</span><br /><br />Today I finished my work. And by that I mean I collected my last bit of data, a relief after all the time I’ve spent on it. I have what I feel is satisfactory to write a quality paper on the bus system and its overcrowded conditions in Dhaka! I had two bus rides left on the #6 bus, and today they weren’t nearly as bad as yesterday. I think because I was excited, I finished quickly and without feeling sick.<br /><br />Besides that, today was also a great day. It started with my fantasy football league’s redo of the draft. And this time everything went okay. I think I have a great team and am excited for the season, even though I’ll have to play on my travels and find time to tweak my rosters. One of the best parts is my friends Greg and Will have joined the league to replace members we booted out for not playing regularly.<br /><br />I spent some time this morning working on my presentation for the conference, just a bit of formatting and arranging of my thoughts, jotting notes on each slide…and deciding the color scheme. As well I had to write a conference biography that will be used to introduce me when I speak.<br /><br />After posting my blog in the morning, my last time posting in Bangladesh, as I don’t’ have the time anymore to write in my journal, I headed up to Gulshan where I met Shaheen and Harvey for lunch, which doubled as a debriefing of my time here. There was also a new woman there, who has taken over Harvey’s responsibility that pertain to Fulbright. So meeting me was a transition experience for her, as she got to hear how my time went and ask questions. We went to a buffet, which allowed me to really fill up! I said my good byes to them. I really appreciated all they did for me while I was here. I felt I always had a friend at the American Center knowing they worked there.<br /><br />I headed to Rampura to do my last data collection between bus routes. I said good bye to the counter workers who had been really cool every time I saw them. Then I did the second #6 bus. Everything worked out well.<br /><br />After all my work, I went to Naira’s home. She had invited me out for dinner one last time. We headed to the new Cofi 11 in Banani. It’s much bigger than their old place, although it doesn’t have the cool outdoor patio (not like I used it anyway.) Still there is outside seating, and the food is just as good. It was a great way to end a great day. I took her back with a taxi and then took that taxi home myself.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">52nd-7th in Dhaka 9/2</span><br /><br />I spent all of day working on my presentation for the conference. There was some data I realized I needed to complete for the presentation, so I set to work on getting it processed. I had to bring it later to Ayon’s for Iftar to get it done by tonight, so I could use it tomorrow.<br />I went to Ayon’s home for Iftar, tonight is the first day of Ramadan. I was excited. This holiday really is a landmark for me, as I was here for all of Ramadan last year, and now I really have a market to gage how long it’s been.<br />One thing that’s different between last Ramadan and this one is that last year I really couldn’t pick out the differences between Bangladesh during or not during Ramadan. Obviously closed restaurants are easy to spot and understand, but how the schedule of daily life changes so drastically during this period is noticeable. It was too early for me to note anything last year. But now I see it all. I can tell that things are different. I notice which restaurants are not open when they usually are. I can tell when the streets are more or less busy with shoppers, and I can tell when the highways have more traffic. I notice how people shift when they go to the market and ride the bus (of course) As well, the general atmosphere in the air, it just feels different. (pic: temporary stand set up to sell the popular Iftar foods, a tea/snack stall covered with a blanket for those not fasting to eat during Ramadan and not disturb those fasting)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANnb0Ap8HnmPQ6FIClryKOXL08QKHh52In7FsR5Tn5vao9Tn40W-8TZZxtyrExcyCbHz26HWKGmsU3p4TwTCAO5CrpJK1IDohjf9pRo61OHwOElLqnnnnjZDtOSTnCjkJl2NhnTNXM9Gr/s1600-h/DSC09428.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264297793282350530" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANnb0Ap8HnmPQ6FIClryKOXL08QKHh52In7FsR5Tn5vao9Tn40W-8TZZxtyrExcyCbHz26HWKGmsU3p4TwTCAO5CrpJK1IDohjf9pRo61OHwOElLqnnnnjZDtOSTnCjkJl2NhnTNXM9Gr/s320/DSC09428.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oGCtoxMZPXNVUVEwT8YqP16ussaSbapGDeqWdYJXFsDXLwBEMoA0nHn8lf2QCrdfM15Gv56WyrfWp4fNT72y1oiGpjt2LwTOtKCUucvVZNARc_GAHxSTwTnbXjP5Up_yfso1pANYn9-0/s1600-h/DSC09433.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264297795466877922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oGCtoxMZPXNVUVEwT8YqP16ussaSbapGDeqWdYJXFsDXLwBEMoA0nHn8lf2QCrdfM15Gv56WyrfWp4fNT72y1oiGpjt2LwTOtKCUucvVZNARc_GAHxSTwTnbXjP5Up_yfso1pANYn9-0/s320/DSC09433.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Anyway, Iftar. I really didn’t think the roads were that bad on the way over, not the stuff of Ramadan legend. I got to his side of town at least a half hour earlier than I intended to show up. So first I went to the bus offices at Arambag and inquired about their times for when they travel from Kolkata. To my dismay, they don’t have any night buses, as the border is closed at night, and Kolkata is very close to the border. So that throws a bit of a wrench in my plans. I discussed it all later with Ayon, and we made a matrix of options I have for my India trip, so that helped a lot.<br />It was fun, relaxing being there with Ayon’s family. Hridoy was now in town, and he talked to me a lot. We had Iftar on the floor of the drawing room, with lots of delicious Iftar goodies that I remember from last year spread out in front of us. I was excited to eat again all the familiar tastes from last year.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixapm0wvgpJdFodKGtLmQN4LhvJhyphenhyphen7fVF3FQJdQZbSVYvJQ7A2jTpYkn-sDw1puUQKml93CzsyvJKhgimIhfT8mpuICrNz-wSVp4Rd71PvuJ7m0RTDCjZ0vGVTuZG4CPST6qYCp5vsD4Oa/s1600-h/DSC09430.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264297792151568210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixapm0wvgpJdFodKGtLmQN4LhvJhyphenhyphen7fVF3FQJdQZbSVYvJQ7A2jTpYkn-sDw1puUQKml93CzsyvJKhgimIhfT8mpuICrNz-wSVp4Rd71PvuJ7m0RTDCjZ0vGVTuZG4CPST6qYCp5vsD4Oa/s320/DSC09430.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: at Ayon's for Iftar with his newphew)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After leaving Ayon’s, I had only minutes to catch the last bus home. As we got to Motijheel, I saw what I thought was the last Mega City bus home, so I ran after it yelling “Oy Mega Mega! Oy Mega!” just like the bus conductors do. Not sure if it was necessary, but I did make the bus. I spent the rest of the night at home working on my presentation, until 1 am.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-30706476395572584072008-09-01T09:47:00.002+06:002008-09-01T09:50:36.638+06:00No Posts for AwhileI'm in my last week in Bangladesh, and with nightly dinner invites, trying to pack, and the finishing of my work, I will not have time to post about my final time here until after I return to the United States. I arrive home on October 17 after trips to India and Southeast Asia.Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-13246366180842150162008-08-30T11:46:00.016+06:002008-09-01T09:39:43.614+06:00Week 51: Chittagong, second city of Bangladesh...save the best for last<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><strong>51st-1st in Dhaka 8/20</strong><br /><br /><div>Today was a stressing day. It started with me waiting for Moweena for 4 hours. I couldn’t go out to work as I needed to speak with her that I’ll be out of town for 4 days. But she didn’t show up, and now she’ll show up at some point in the next few days and find me not there, and get annoyed at me.<br /><br />Talked to my landlord’s wife this morning about my moving out, and that a future Fulbright Tiffany will be moving in. Had to establish if I could leave all my stuff in the room if Tiffany is taking my place and buying my stuff. The landlord’s wife said she won’t get my place, but get the place the floor below next to the landlord’s. I also asked about the deposits and how I’ll get them back. Before leaving, the last thing she said was that she wants my fridge. I explained I promised it to the boys downstairs, and she said “No, you will give it to me” in her nice voice. Again I said it was promised, and then she said “I will talk to them, and then you will give to me” in her not so nice voice. Made me feel very uncomfortable. I just imagine her telling me if I don’t give her the fridge, then she won’t give me my deposit back.<br /><br />After I finally got out of the house, I went to ride the Safety bus four times. Only two times would come of this. The first two buses got in big jams, and thus I knew I didn’t have time for a fourth before heading to my dinner invitation. So I boarded the third, glad to know I would at least get that one done. However this bus got a flat tire 2/3 of the way through the route, and that was the end of that. Had to scrap the route, and 1.5 hours wasted on it.<br /><br />Headed to Shegufta’s home from there. I thought it was interesting that I took four modes of transportation to get there. First I took a tempo from where the bus had had a flat tire. I got off the tempo and walked from that point on the tempo’s route to Farmgate. There I got on a local bus to Bangla Motor, where I picked up a rickshaw to take to her home. I then proceeded to get lost and it took about 10 minutes to find her home. Oddly she lives in a really empty street, but it was the lack of businesses (that have addresses on their signs) made me get lost amongst the nothingness.<br />Dinner was great! But they stuffed me so full. So many delicious things, and her mother kept putting more on my plate. She had 20 items total for us that night. Her father knew a lot about the space programs of the world, a favorite for the retired mechanical engineer, and I enjoyed listening to what he had to say about that and other topics he has picked up in his numerous science magazines.<br /><br />Random thing. While stuck in traffic tonight, our tempo conductor was chatting with the driver of someone’s SUV (the owner wasn’t inside.) The driver told him to hop in for a spin. So he did. He left us. Never came back.<br /><br /><strong>51st-2nd in Chittagong 8/21</strong><br /><br />Auvi picked me up early to take me to the train station. Our train to Chittagong left at 7:40am. I was nausea this morning, and the train food options didn’t help. The only sanitary food on the train, according to Auvi, was the many bags of potato chips we ate. I did manage to buy some bananas and peanuts through the train window at a stop mid-route, and that was much more fulfilling.<br />The train itself was very clean. They had food servers coming down the aisle every few minutes serving sandwiches and chicken burgers (both which Auvi told me not to take), chips, cold drinks, and candy. The views out the window were great. It was neat to leave the city by the train, see its view of the traffic (which the train itself is causing.) Neat to pass by all the cities on the way to Chittagong. Its not a direct route, we first go north to go south because the Meghna River isn’t bridged on the most direct route. We stopped at about 15 stations along the way. At points we can see the hills of nearby India as we passed by the eastern border. The landscape as we got closer to Chittagong was of the hill tracts of Bangladesh, gorgeous. (pics: Dhaka's train station in the early morning, six ticket collectors came through the aisle at once swarming us checking our tickets and were out of the cabin before you realized what had happened (also a good shot of the inside of the train), our train sweeps through the Bangladesh countryside, someone else enjoying the view of the Chittagong Hill Tracts)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPJlZv6RqS_MV42U3Yod_Z92QaizYi3GTenhB_lzXKKb0r6FIw8fpuNka6SRFsRLxp_ykTZMGCgWOiy8Y2-Bet1xb8GcyOIIANGjQDFAcOVJIb-li591qbSqiaVu-i7g5dTo-vlUtWsov/s1600-h/aDSC08869.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240876778312378114" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPJlZv6RqS_MV42U3Yod_Z92QaizYi3GTenhB_lzXKKb0r6FIw8fpuNka6SRFsRLxp_ykTZMGCgWOiy8Y2-Bet1xb8GcyOIIANGjQDFAcOVJIb-li591qbSqiaVu-i7g5dTo-vlUtWsov/s320/aDSC08869.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddzjXnJbMwGwJLJdMLhR-0MJnGtOXK4HybewCbvNdYvUpSHZTwoteg6H1YGGr63NwFQUv6q9u7y3_ZUMItyiUY3_3A_ZjMTvLwBoPe4z3Q0p_7JzPGbDvJn19goq8bSowScerfj0M32Rt/s1600-h/aDSC08887.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240876781912559426" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddzjXnJbMwGwJLJdMLhR-0MJnGtOXK4HybewCbvNdYvUpSHZTwoteg6H1YGGr63NwFQUv6q9u7y3_ZUMItyiUY3_3A_ZjMTvLwBoPe4z3Q0p_7JzPGbDvJn19goq8bSowScerfj0M32Rt/s320/aDSC08887.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsB8hpv6RYnVfi1XkMgNjnV-EZVzgI51YYRVj1N8MhNCpe8Z1yZ6FQeZq7ks14ytWP02U050crqv0jRA-T6ADV5m_o1a8xr7mDguvnVCEcwud4NegbPUZnkUsGOrrl_qWWFGW3Ojuzixp/s1600-h/aDSC08902.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240876783897679410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsB8hpv6RYnVfi1XkMgNjnV-EZVzgI51YYRVj1N8MhNCpe8Z1yZ6FQeZq7ks14ytWP02U050crqv0jRA-T6ADV5m_o1a8xr7mDguvnVCEcwud4NegbPUZnkUsGOrrl_qWWFGW3Ojuzixp/s320/aDSC08902.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvr7jaMDGUT42fkitQH5bHo5mtKCLA8AydXorBLr330hyphenhyphenKupjcjObYvRZv2xv8Jl04fWZo7mi3XAWB0qQwZA9MRH7igEUlvxClg4tD60EOxsjbROYLSjYOIE5qtkWxBIKu9rqdkOUnp2FN/s1600-h/aDSC08929.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240876781229899938" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvr7jaMDGUT42fkitQH5bHo5mtKCLA8AydXorBLr330hyphenhyphenKupjcjObYvRZv2xv8Jl04fWZo7mi3XAWB0qQwZA9MRH7igEUlvxClg4tD60EOxsjbROYLSjYOIE5qtkWxBIKu9rqdkOUnp2FN/s320/aDSC08929.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We arrived, and headed to where we were staying. Ayon was staying at his cousin’s home, while Auvi had arranged for him and I to stay with his older sister and her husband. These two places were about 30-40 minutes apart by rickshaw.<br />Auvi’s sister Shubha and her husband Asif have a cute son named Arham, and he called me “Donny Mama” (Donny Uncle) from the start, at the direction of his parents. It was cute, and it quickly made me feel at home. They were extremely welcoming from the start, and Shubha cooked amazing food. The attitude around the dinner table was light, and we had several great laughs across the time we were there. I enjoyed playing games with Arham over the whole weekend. (pics: Auvi relaxing with his nephew Arham, Arham/Spiderman)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlowHY8t2TFG3qDczAR5v92X9vH7YwaXEzt-RmJY_7lWp6cCQCvKax4QTC6oTMKwXZeZzmOkgM3WG3dQ2b3RtVsBZOae_DGfhj77ngqRGmmkBmhT2OrdlZQwb5ZA9xyeuUHPM-lO8UX0-/s1600-h/aDSC08949.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240876786509638114" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlowHY8t2TFG3qDczAR5v92X9vH7YwaXEzt-RmJY_7lWp6cCQCvKax4QTC6oTMKwXZeZzmOkgM3WG3dQ2b3RtVsBZOae_DGfhj77ngqRGmmkBmhT2OrdlZQwb5ZA9xyeuUHPM-lO8UX0-/s320/aDSC08949.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJeWtYt8LnOzHhBRphMkSiiooIGsnkqCeszevJa1qL5NLsb3ZzqULM1RsadVLcVpG-3XatAk0Q7wL_u3783uPTc26Jxn9801Mpot444TZN2sB5BxAFmAueTZdMmwKbZgc3ysePDf1jPlk/s1600-h/aDSC08963.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240875914989964850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJeWtYt8LnOzHhBRphMkSiiooIGsnkqCeszevJa1qL5NLsb3ZzqULM1RsadVLcVpG-3XatAk0Q7wL_u3783uPTc26Jxn9801Mpot444TZN2sB5BxAFmAueTZdMmwKbZgc3ysePDf1jPlk/s320/aDSC08963.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Tonight, Auvi and I headed to what he called the Bashundara City of Chittagong. It was 6 floors high, but at least 10 times as small a floor plan for each level. Still, it is pretty nice and the best stores are there. A food court on the top floor had a small variety, and we got some fuchka covered in yogurt and then some ice cream. (pic: Sanmar Ocean City-Chittagong's Bashundara City says Auvi)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4jDfDj1Yr7wHASNDhGRgLqsuNMkhKCRap2WP2l3RIp0xE6UvryLXT48tDpHunAaLqNwOVpyy7Swf5ytBoK8aZOMKLQOxJTUFcdGloVOZwpD1lpG6r1xrIXsPgeXrVQ2fxAKxBoRrIfu7/s1600-h/aDSC08955.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240875908385235154" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4jDfDj1Yr7wHASNDhGRgLqsuNMkhKCRap2WP2l3RIp0xE6UvryLXT48tDpHunAaLqNwOVpyy7Swf5ytBoK8aZOMKLQOxJTUFcdGloVOZwpD1lpG6r1xrIXsPgeXrVQ2fxAKxBoRrIfu7/s320/aDSC08955.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I’ve been plowing through Freedom at Midnight. Incredible book. Read it at all my free chances. For the first time understanding the birth of all the nations in the subcontinent, and not just Bangladesh. Incredible history.<br /><br /><strong>51st-3rd in Chittagong 8/22</strong><br /><br />I keep getting a hard time from people about the US having less gold medals than China in these Olympics. Although I defend my country and say we have more total medals (and that’s how my newspaper back home had always ranked countries) they said only gold medals matter, and thus the US is second for once. Everyone is rejoicing over this.<br /><br />We set out this morning to the Chittagong Shipyards. I have known about these for years, but read more about them when I got the Fulbright, and really wanted to see them when I came. Today was finally the time. Although much controversy surrounds them in terms of safe working conditions, child labor, and where the profits go to, I’ve been told and read online that it is possible to go inside. You just have to try a few entrances until someone lets you in.<br />Well we weren’t that lucky. A bunch of us went: Auvi, Asif, Ayon, Ayon’s cousins Hridoy and Protoy, Auvi’s cousin, and even Arham! Two CNGs full of guys interested in boats being taken apart. We’d heard it was easier to go on Friday when things were less busy, and thus more likely for someone to be let in. Well maybe the opposite is true. The guard wouldn’t let us in at any of the three gates we tried, and two said that we could have a chance if the supervisor was there to grant us permission (on a weekday.)<br />We could only peer through the fences. It was still very impressive. Some of the biggest boats on earth just cut in half, and it’s all by hand labor. The ships just sit on the beach, and in front of them are all the metal taken from their hulls and decks. The streets to the shipyards are filled with things taken from the boats such as life preservers, toilets, cabinets, and sinks.<br />I really wish we could’ve gone in. It was a big “want” for me in Bangladesh, and I’ll leave without ever gong inside and seeing this wonder up close. (pics: materials collected from the ships at the Chittagong Shipyards, a view of a large ship being taken apart and lots of scrap material from outside the fence)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7feN_cAaHpkwlu2R0R821QCxqSMk6S-PtQIztYJPpH5zQopwoWgqh4uKUD3v87XMRhdpU-8oYFWScKMtumWCxktquuDJrx7YguSMR87ivaya0kKp3n7JVlS_QjYLq_Ey_0rbK3aLWwL_/s1600-h/aDSC08977.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240875915288852722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7feN_cAaHpkwlu2R0R821QCxqSMk6S-PtQIztYJPpH5zQopwoWgqh4uKUD3v87XMRhdpU-8oYFWScKMtumWCxktquuDJrx7YguSMR87ivaya0kKp3n7JVlS_QjYLq_Ey_0rbK3aLWwL_/s320/aDSC08977.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsV6QyhPbt2FBy3RTdBSumaoU63f0VEkXBsKYFTb7Zn5IAwFoqJQzRLUd-5_rxp3KTI_ma1Wf5kFnTSXlv75mWcU8FiGsIL2LRN5iGQd13d7OZpYQFKIk-iWwq59NF6jszfVGqaBVzgip/s1600-h/aDSC08979a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240875917619349618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsV6QyhPbt2FBy3RTdBSumaoU63f0VEkXBsKYFTb7Zn5IAwFoqJQzRLUd-5_rxp3KTI_ma1Wf5kFnTSXlv75mWcU8FiGsIL2LRN5iGQd13d7OZpYQFKIk-iWwq59NF6jszfVGqaBVzgip/s320/aDSC08979a.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We headed home, had lunch, and rested most of the rest of the day until we went to Foy’s Lake in the evening. From what I knew, Foy’s Lake sits amongst a few hills just next to Chittagong, and is a very beautiful area. Well apparently over time commercialism stepped in and now there’s an amusement park on the lakeside, as well as bungalow hotels. The natural beauty still exists, under concrete pathways, steps, rides, boats with ads pasted on them, etc. Oh well. Still a nice place to pass time with friends. The tickets were a bit expensive to get in. We went to the lake right away, and took a 20 minute boat ride on a small sized craft run by a loud engine. It putted us around the lake for awhile. (pics: Arham looking out on Foy's Lake, Shubha/Prottoy/Ayon on the boat ride around Foy's Lake)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLiSw7mEzvbSdSSDsw8sblMkZvR3QQFsDzRhTdzRCmyJWwRvHFOezCIwHNITIOVNlQWJl4viaJEqKlHM9io7B6IsTyAkDmtrjADJvaXBtyCj-MU5a7m-L7XpTrsBknRzXAC3qPLcupMBVM/s1600-h/aDSC08997.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240875920765996450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLiSw7mEzvbSdSSDsw8sblMkZvR3QQFsDzRhTdzRCmyJWwRvHFOezCIwHNITIOVNlQWJl4viaJEqKlHM9io7B6IsTyAkDmtrjADJvaXBtyCj-MU5a7m-L7XpTrsBknRzXAC3qPLcupMBVM/s320/aDSC08997.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl6yJIgpvxGCpFcTDNWUE3Hn1sFaI2JrD4_5D3q7FWc32QXK6qrN0l2fFy94Jp2zVnRfYngyEvHgb-Uo1oP4IXBY5YXH05gEp9ktOE8m_2_ydwFAeaqdoWCzvo8deEoxyuj86YtR9upGo/s1600-h/aDSC09020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240874869288038674" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl6yJIgpvxGCpFcTDNWUE3Hn1sFaI2JrD4_5D3q7FWc32QXK6qrN0l2fFy94Jp2zVnRfYngyEvHgb-Uo1oP4IXBY5YXH05gEp9ktOE8m_2_ydwFAeaqdoWCzvo8deEoxyuj86YtR9upGo/s320/aDSC09020.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From there we took a short stroll along the paths. A few of us started climbing up one of the hills to get a better view of the lake. On the other side of the hill you could see all of Chittagong. (pics: Ayon/Arham/myself posing at Foy's Lake's walkpaths, Auvi and others below climbing one of the hills that form the rim of Foy's Lake)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a6_NgkiQuC3-ChSBlRu0lgGolooreD_bdw7l9HBk26GSQsxUHTPKrIEVjqYvBi9ciAWRTTOQ1qytUrTyYhQde9eFQQxP4nAdRaMm3LDZV7YIWdcbQ1SdM-fWWlAie87KPq5qtSzTSitg/s1600-h/aDSC09039.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240874874860855586" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a6_NgkiQuC3-ChSBlRu0lgGolooreD_bdw7l9HBk26GSQsxUHTPKrIEVjqYvBi9ciAWRTTOQ1qytUrTyYhQde9eFQQxP4nAdRaMm3LDZV7YIWdcbQ1SdM-fWWlAie87KPq5qtSzTSitg/s320/aDSC09039.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWf8fh7iCQxiLBoVlIEemz0WK4J3xXjhnapoy5FOdjr6_GUBbAkrQIX-KpIza5MLZN1TQT_FuzC_FGXE1ua7o_FECLBoR-e-n1dC7ZCQvn-CQC3-s-mNM1r6mXcgy_bmARQKhyzOBnV6LF/s1600-h/aDSC09030.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240874873558502258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWf8fh7iCQxiLBoVlIEemz0WK4J3xXjhnapoy5FOdjr6_GUBbAkrQIX-KpIza5MLZN1TQT_FuzC_FGXE1ua7o_FECLBoR-e-n1dC7ZCQvn-CQC3-s-mNM1r6mXcgy_bmARQKhyzOBnV6LF/s320/aDSC09030.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We rode some of the rides there. I got on the swinging pirate ship, the bumper cars, and the kids roller coaster. Arham loved the roller coaster, especially since it was the only one he was allowed on. He was crying when we rode the other rides without him. (pics: Auvi/Hridoy/Ayon thoroughly enjoying the swinging pirate ship, Prottoy/Hridoy/Auvi await the bumper cars in anticipation)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1VPRax36dxTOvJCHsfARRWoti28X0t_hhmwxhqxlSXQvvklhJBwM3PfP6CKOg9Et9b86u1_3LR6f1_0G6PUf1IikE91SOEIyXG9HOxaEdZV2yu2xLYcd_PzaZMXYI-QquDTV4wLsx4ev/s1600-h/aDSC09052.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240874878428068258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1VPRax36dxTOvJCHsfARRWoti28X0t_hhmwxhqxlSXQvvklhJBwM3PfP6CKOg9Et9b86u1_3LR6f1_0G6PUf1IikE91SOEIyXG9HOxaEdZV2yu2xLYcd_PzaZMXYI-QquDTV4wLsx4ev/s320/aDSC09052.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhCG9Qo-RScPTqGMEXwvgzK-wX2Y378-22oRsC7CRXLz1IWtVRIp4NDa7ZOvf2VxJ5mBnlHSvFNa97MJkpFAZ-b8gL9Zb3YDIlWTj7pM0353fA_nERzXEp5eTqhl9Q9JlplfLY5Tnu0Sgt/s1600-h/aDSC09061.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240874881500481842" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhCG9Qo-RScPTqGMEXwvgzK-wX2Y378-22oRsC7CRXLz1IWtVRIp4NDa7ZOvf2VxJ5mBnlHSvFNa97MJkpFAZ-b8gL9Zb3YDIlWTj7pM0353fA_nERzXEp5eTqhl9Q9JlplfLY5Tnu0Sgt/s320/aDSC09061.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Auvi and I were up late tonight hanging out around the home, and we <a href="http://www.irinnews.org/Report.aspx?ReportId=79964">felt an earthquake</a>!! I’d never felt one before, and neither had Auvi. I was sitting on the bed and I started to feel it wobble. I didn’t understand what was happening at first, and Auvi didn’t either. He was standing, and the cabinet he was standing next to had been rocking. We looked at each other and he was the fist one to say “earthquake.” It lasted for about 30 seconds. We were both a bit scared, not sure what to do. It wasn’t very strong, just a bit of wobble, but it was our firsts. If we had been sleeping we wouldn’t have felt it.<br />His sister said in the morning that Chittagong gets lots of earthquakes like this.<br /><br /><strong>51st-4th in Chittagong 8/23<br /></strong><br />This morning Auvi’s dad arrived from Dhaka to stay at his sister’s home too. He had come for the wedding tomorrow that we’ll be going to in his village.<br /><br />Auvi, myself, Ayon, and Prottoy headed by CNG with Asif to his factory. He is the executive director of a garments factory. It was my first time getting to see a place like this, despite the many in Dhaka and across Bangladesh. He was a great tour guide showing us each part of the process. The factory makes sweaters, and we saw how they are put through the looms by hundreds of workers, how many more then put the pieces of the sweaters together, then inspect them, wash them, iron them, do quality control, add buttons and tags and details, and then pack them up for shipping. The factory was very clean, and seemed very well run. My favorite part was seeing the small part where the designer makes all his samples to send overseas to gather orders. Once a design is chosen, his group then creates a guide on how to make the clothes for all the loom workers. The worksheets for this were pretty cool, long procedures to follow filled with complex codes. (pics: looms at the garment factory, showing the data sheet that a worker follows to make the sweaters, Asif explains to Ayon/Auvi/Prottoy how a garment is made and put together at his factory, the linking section putting the sleeves and body together, the designer's office, the shipping box proudly announcing where the clothes were made)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjtXXGf5sRxFCx06clYXU1yJ8vjBhfn3s8i0-w9LtNJdSOs5hBOs4ZppsBH9m7R-fEbhO_dBjaOLJ4e8tpsACoRQYk-tlDVvYOcHLnaehd1KI7Z9J76xUZ1R72a6PLRzJBtQTeJ29SN8S/s1600-h/aDSC09097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240873731370546546" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjtXXGf5sRxFCx06clYXU1yJ8vjBhfn3s8i0-w9LtNJdSOs5hBOs4ZppsBH9m7R-fEbhO_dBjaOLJ4e8tpsACoRQYk-tlDVvYOcHLnaehd1KI7Z9J76xUZ1R72a6PLRzJBtQTeJ29SN8S/s320/aDSC09097.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7otRrVgqGmmkqR5FbLCWlFucYb1El-_vAA1se5xwPlr6JynERJLyujbkDqVHeBkP2zxhJMdJBiFeEYjVNgIxIfFYtUUbAMCCx0iJ6kl1x_pNYqshYgl3066yOGM1FxHn5MWkAlfFtW1Tw/s1600-h/aDSC09102.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240873738796421970" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7otRrVgqGmmkqR5FbLCWlFucYb1El-_vAA1se5xwPlr6JynERJLyujbkDqVHeBkP2zxhJMdJBiFeEYjVNgIxIfFYtUUbAMCCx0iJ6kl1x_pNYqshYgl3066yOGM1FxHn5MWkAlfFtW1Tw/s320/aDSC09102.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwZA188wSBgAtothI5zTY4kQnCCyYEnzC1iBVhxd3gPTUpR3ylodcwHRVfY_oVhhpzcN3ldpeUIjQj57dQSRR2t26AGzYrWSUfM_UZL_DjTeI9a4MqdYXiAv-OwVn1CfCvX2dl-eP85kX/s1600-h/aDSC09107.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240873740785724850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwZA188wSBgAtothI5zTY4kQnCCyYEnzC1iBVhxd3gPTUpR3ylodcwHRVfY_oVhhpzcN3ldpeUIjQj57dQSRR2t26AGzYrWSUfM_UZL_DjTeI9a4MqdYXiAv-OwVn1CfCvX2dl-eP85kX/s320/aDSC09107.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GhOgPg1anK-d8ehGNMKl5APTkVv4mFpcEo5lSGtbjQPV3rqAAk8WsKdWCnwhyphenhyphenpRQEgsYOFEWv6bY7ahZd1fOerptFp2UKb0mw1NED3ZLcP_irqw9kV6UVknt2Xh1uEHwHrM-0EBjltm9/s1600-h/aDSC09113.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240873742543446738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GhOgPg1anK-d8ehGNMKl5APTkVv4mFpcEo5lSGtbjQPV3rqAAk8WsKdWCnwhyphenhyphenpRQEgsYOFEWv6bY7ahZd1fOerptFp2UKb0mw1NED3ZLcP_irqw9kV6UVknt2Xh1uEHwHrM-0EBjltm9/s320/aDSC09113.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxgJdQmhfOhOuE1DrrDtdpfiySWJCL72zKYV2Dbx_DKeKtfZzEVqjxebt62H5upuRHzcVtE74IMQ_FGXuiZeyxZbe1QOflBkYctJcZCzoYF2euIOGNfDlnjiMGSxZvI3A9WZmHStI9ZDs/s1600-h/aDSC09118.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240873744536530130" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxgJdQmhfOhOuE1DrrDtdpfiySWJCL72zKYV2Dbx_DKeKtfZzEVqjxebt62H5upuRHzcVtE74IMQ_FGXuiZeyxZbe1QOflBkYctJcZCzoYF2euIOGNfDlnjiMGSxZvI3A9WZmHStI9ZDs/s320/aDSC09118.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8OUfvPXCJAkHs1_2y69WHR6Ky7fs1Se1sElr7wrAtZWVNDZ_H_aqPzTxwSZBZ7a6yEY1e1PGsvF__4hsvOUYr9m1kryeUNnTlup6dSyjXRmtfGkLKptqbGzVpbk3Bh80MgzBcWbUts9V/s1600-h/aDSC09121.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206711600378866" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8OUfvPXCJAkHs1_2y69WHR6Ky7fs1Se1sElr7wrAtZWVNDZ_H_aqPzTxwSZBZ7a6yEY1e1PGsvF__4hsvOUYr9m1kryeUNnTlup6dSyjXRmtfGkLKptqbGzVpbk3Bh80MgzBcWbUts9V/s320/aDSC09121.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We later got a snack at a fried chicken restaurant, and then went to see the World War 2 cemetery. I saw a similar cemetery in Comilla in October, and found out here that there are eight total scattered across India, Bangladesh, and Myanmar from the Burmese front of the war against the Japanese.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dzL89tx0gPr-OH7MgI3bZwvScsjtZ1elr2c5t5bwZjt7BLhdcrug_YSJZlAcqiG57PWtXo0kFgZ2CtSps203jFHX3kRkdYXnhYEFOXeOWIzvt1fx7CA_5Hq0kWkBfmfeVYsNcRbhRSLi/s1600-h/aDSC09139.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206710218076594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dzL89tx0gPr-OH7MgI3bZwvScsjtZ1elr2c5t5bwZjt7BLhdcrug_YSJZlAcqiG57PWtXo0kFgZ2CtSps203jFHX3kRkdYXnhYEFOXeOWIzvt1fx7CA_5Hq0kWkBfmfeVYsNcRbhRSLi/s320/aDSC09139.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: World War 2 cemetery in Chittagong)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the afternoon Auvi and I went over to Ayon’s cousins home, and we all headed out to Patenga Beach. From there you can watch the sunset. Well Auvi and I had arrived too slow, so by the time we all got to the beach, the sun had set. But still the views of the ships out on the water waiting to go to port with all their lights lit was beautiful. The place was packed with people, and this was after we saw many leaving after sunset. There were shops to buy sea-themed gifts. We had fresh cooked crabs from some guy with a pot. (pics: Auvi/Hridoy/Prottoy/Ayon at Patenga Beach at night, boats waiting outside Chittagong port to deliver their goods, the pot of crabs we ate from, craftsman at the beach market)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYv4IGkwrfQImPe9LVTrImwV1_OYGQvtw9FL7fdOZQ4PTMfAnOsICUk8r_ZR9bChk3sFaIUw32xwWmDNGP1555twbOLKaTcqQmux1ju6tr3akBJjhJ4-g1VuNPzVobx78dIndkLVjL7EG/s1600-h/aDSC09169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206716554862802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYv4IGkwrfQImPe9LVTrImwV1_OYGQvtw9FL7fdOZQ4PTMfAnOsICUk8r_ZR9bChk3sFaIUw32xwWmDNGP1555twbOLKaTcqQmux1ju6tr3akBJjhJ4-g1VuNPzVobx78dIndkLVjL7EG/s320/aDSC09169.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7WbU_BxhsXPQMVTPdF8TpXTTgRtXdGofSzb9fAmtib3SBlmADLRCe_QX2fVMSwhhT3Pc4rIVyn68Ro1QyTd7DC9zdvoOLd-DB9eL92vgIOOBvaALGWR89mMGOQGdNgI068q-QWkhVzxgN/s1600-h/aDSC09164.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206714716089618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7WbU_BxhsXPQMVTPdF8TpXTTgRtXdGofSzb9fAmtib3SBlmADLRCe_QX2fVMSwhhT3Pc4rIVyn68Ro1QyTd7DC9zdvoOLd-DB9eL92vgIOOBvaALGWR89mMGOQGdNgI068q-QWkhVzxgN/s320/aDSC09164.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgduv0oMjenKTpF3JS5HQdd3BdHPIsFypSGEv-Q08bfHNkq7WeemFVUr2CT991Pq1_BUvvsofmN_y43QJw6DdXyv5twhsal5SVR3aJfj6HkBYr9Jueq6FhkpkdL2je1UhTFWKg2mAZy-ZT/s1600-h/aDSC09176.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206716603122146" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgduv0oMjenKTpF3JS5HQdd3BdHPIsFypSGEv-Q08bfHNkq7WeemFVUr2CT991Pq1_BUvvsofmN_y43QJw6DdXyv5twhsal5SVR3aJfj6HkBYr9Jueq6FhkpkdL2je1UhTFWKg2mAZy-ZT/s320/aDSC09176.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr79WC3JWzezOu8aflNQQlPzQFIrZv7R01dM-lobZf1zqxnRIFXS1Xwtlg7h2J0WudsZHaFOEaIPRKIFmgztslhjDuNLxgHXrcrClp0iMmZy92_NxK04VkS2DxzCXA6OI57jwc289wq4k/s1600-h/aDSC09178.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206212646291650" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr79WC3JWzezOu8aflNQQlPzQFIrZv7R01dM-lobZf1zqxnRIFXS1Xwtlg7h2J0WudsZHaFOEaIPRKIFmgztslhjDuNLxgHXrcrClp0iMmZy92_NxK04VkS2DxzCXA6OI57jwc289wq4k/s320/aDSC09178.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />51st-5th in Chittagong 8/24</strong><br /><br />We headed out to Auvi’s father’s village in the morning. We were to attend a wedding and see his family’s home. Ayon, Prottoy, Auvi, and I shared a CNG on the way out, and that meant Prottoy had to sit on Ayon’s lap the whole way. A bit squished.<br />We stayed in the village for about an hour, roaming around the old house, the nearby rice paddies, and just around in general. We got fed some snacks by his father’s brother's family, some juice, biscuits, samosas, and guava. From there it was to the wedding. What resulted there, or rather what didn’t, was far from what I expected. (pics: myself/Auvi/Ayon at Auvi's father's village, Prottoy/Auvi/Ayon on our visit with some of the oldest homes behind them)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbv5CojKfD2ZXAxVrnOHyyZF1FGHxKnDjw6iqFT3sFMuR4N90hyphenhyphenNfeggdm_o1hHPa2Fy3a3ABWwguafLdZJuDAiB9SD58xiiqkp6vtQc8d-_n3dP63U3jSF8o43ej-3H34-OyKRZKVjES/s1600-h/aDSC09205.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206213442538818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbv5CojKfD2ZXAxVrnOHyyZF1FGHxKnDjw6iqFT3sFMuR4N90hyphenhyphenNfeggdm_o1hHPa2Fy3a3ABWwguafLdZJuDAiB9SD58xiiqkp6vtQc8d-_n3dP63U3jSF8o43ej-3H34-OyKRZKVjES/s320/aDSC09205.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0UBpBQ_NQt4vcm47NK8AjtIdzisiN2agTaLiCeCqsE3IH7W_CcBY93njfQ7VNwUertuGXKm2yXQSq0fa8MFgH28uu_38lKHSL4GS-RdAhvCvKzrBN6xX7frXzVK6CaWKXljRYZ04CKV1/s1600-h/aDSC09207.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206219307595746" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0UBpBQ_NQt4vcm47NK8AjtIdzisiN2agTaLiCeCqsE3IH7W_CcBY93njfQ7VNwUertuGXKm2yXQSq0fa8MFgH28uu_38lKHSL4GS-RdAhvCvKzrBN6xX7frXzVK6CaWKXljRYZ04CKV1/s320/aDSC09207.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We arrived, and already there were about 200 people there, about one quarter standing outside. The whole wedding was split between men and women to maintain purdah. The groom had his own stage on the men’s side, the woman had her stage on the woman’s side, and a giant wall was between them. We sat down immediately to eat, and that lasted about 15 minutes. We then stood inside for about 3 minutes, and outside for five. Then we left. In total, we were at the wedding for about 25 minutes maximum. I asked Auvi, why we had come all this way, just to eat and leave. He explained that the majority of the people who come to the wedding do just that. They are there to be treated by the hosts to a free meal, and never intend to stay for any part of the wedding. I asked if anyone stays to see the actual marriage between the bride and groom, and he said a handful.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_U5bNGW5VXYmWz8SU7F9s0-t_Vxei8jGVFGcOhQgDOOyhClYIFgnXeN7IDQ8Jv9OWXIXl6VSIT9PW-OCFMln8_Gp8TWKsvabh2KFtilb1Aqg9V1eAZdfgPCPX7dTrdv7IdcatWy1CZRPp/s1600-h/aDSC09215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206223395561538" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_U5bNGW5VXYmWz8SU7F9s0-t_Vxei8jGVFGcOhQgDOOyhClYIFgnXeN7IDQ8Jv9OWXIXl6VSIT9PW-OCFMln8_Gp8TWKsvabh2KFtilb1Aqg9V1eAZdfgPCPX7dTrdv7IdcatWy1CZRPp/s320/aDSC09215.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KY9JYuuEp9sUFY0R0M5-oeJBb-xUZ5nQcloRejDyfA3zSSZgiSt5HNx8tX5dNNxLBn4OHczIj0-p3a_3UQpWyAWhxp9motSWTAgqxNJKg2UoPimRnMPNbB7yXPUD90cZyjEH4Z_neNXy/s1600-h/aDSC09211.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240206219514282834" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KY9JYuuEp9sUFY0R0M5-oeJBb-xUZ5nQcloRejDyfA3zSSZgiSt5HNx8tX5dNNxLBn4OHczIj0-p3a_3UQpWyAWhxp9motSWTAgqxNJKg2UoPimRnMPNbB7yXPUD90cZyjEH4Z_neNXy/s320/aDSC09211.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pics: myself/Auvi outside the wedding, the groom sits on his stage)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We went back to Auvi’s place in the late afternoon, and were given snacks by his sister. This would be the first of five snacks that Auvi and I would enjoy this afternoon/evening. See below.<br />Before the line of homes we visited, we first headed to Battali Hills Park, which has an overlook over the city and out to the ocean. We arrived just after sunset, and thus only stayed for a bit. But the walk up the hill was neat as it was a gorgeous wooded park inside the hectic city. Dhaka’s parks do not have this feeling. The view from the top was spectacular. One forgets what views of Bangladesh are like as the whole country is mainly flat. (pics: Ayon and Prottoy climbing up Battali Hill, view of Chittagong out to the Bay of Bengal from the top of Battali Hill)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiknSg053cWi23uIFhtys5-X3UODbQsTd52Ul6vCHPZeT_PzN-c7Iz4KGPz0I5G9XchXtrWBne2TMBzplU6Nw5pImQtzZcIc3UDCnCrBLcdon-lLoWddxj6xlX5PtWxDd1cV4MAMTvHd8G/s1600-h/aDSC09237.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240205492759172722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiknSg053cWi23uIFhtys5-X3UODbQsTd52Ul6vCHPZeT_PzN-c7Iz4KGPz0I5G9XchXtrWBne2TMBzplU6Nw5pImQtzZcIc3UDCnCrBLcdon-lLoWddxj6xlX5PtWxDd1cV4MAMTvHd8G/s320/aDSC09237.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1Tre0HUBisFki7A4i8Z4yzeLsMjI5Vm91wi3PQSH4rWeZ5u1Rnqy3RwwHBGH4w_9pqk7tgm_3Ugja4ITTDxkPsO-8E_xwapmZtHNU7JZ1JJQP-jsSVP9UPeN8EGMD_bKDc9_Fl5r2ykK/s1600-h/aDSC09240.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240205496999434946" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1Tre0HUBisFki7A4i8Z4yzeLsMjI5Vm91wi3PQSH4rWeZ5u1Rnqy3RwwHBGH4w_9pqk7tgm_3Ugja4ITTDxkPsO-8E_xwapmZtHNU7JZ1JJQP-jsSVP9UPeN8EGMD_bKDc9_Fl5r2ykK/s320/aDSC09240.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Then started the evening of visiting and eating. In succession we visited three homes of Ayon’s family. As Auvi is a new member of the family, marrying in, he wanted to visit them all as he was in town. At each we were given a cold drink and a variety of snacks. it is expected of us to eat a fair share of these snacks, or else you disappoint your host. By the third home, we were stuffed. It was admittedly hard to finish off our last bit of sweets. Then for Auvi and I we had to go over to see his mom’s sister. There we were given our final snacks for the night, and luckily they were understating on why we didn’t take very much. (pics: Ayon/Prottoy/Amiyo at one of their relatives homes, Auvi/Ayon's cousin Bilu/Shreya/Prottoy's mother/Poulomi/Bilu's wife/Auhona/Prottoy on our visit to their home)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSzNgTkh2d_xZcgxptirysL-GVgRBoCRaTk5VojCI0hxcjRaZ7_Muu3Jk6_syshBGUpjataBylaVBn-EKWYXO0dI7JPWfnFShl-DSTl2_IdiIiHCEcCqsa-KTUTgymgNz6U4Rbt7KkyFO/s1600-h/aDSC09260.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240205497727885314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSzNgTkh2d_xZcgxptirysL-GVgRBoCRaTk5VojCI0hxcjRaZ7_Muu3Jk6_syshBGUpjataBylaVBn-EKWYXO0dI7JPWfnFShl-DSTl2_IdiIiHCEcCqsa-KTUTgymgNz6U4Rbt7KkyFO/s320/aDSC09260.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OnOrxtxCLa3EAbaE65rauLpNeC_FoN_UHOFmW0_mGCmaaAf82fDZvyChKB9_Yv8D7xqF2z1ZM6bauD9_clRHIg6aVP1GToMg4g11ZErFQ4VhWsdp_RhQBMgkFw_VrPVyx0rjAY_1623k/s1600-h/aDSC09273.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240205496973801170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OnOrxtxCLa3EAbaE65rauLpNeC_FoN_UHOFmW0_mGCmaaAf82fDZvyChKB9_Yv8D7xqF2z1ZM6bauD9_clRHIg6aVP1GToMg4g11ZErFQ4VhWsdp_RhQBMgkFw_VrPVyx0rjAY_1623k/s320/aDSC09273.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At home, despite all our snacking on sweets and salty tings, we still had a small dinner his sister had prepared for us. The rice and dal were actually quite refreshing after eating so many sweet things for the last few hours.<br /><br /><strong>51st-6th in Dhaka 8/25</strong><br /><br />We woke up early to catch the train back to Dhaka. It left at 7am. Five of us were going: Auvi, Ayon, and I and in addition Ayon’s cousin and his son Hridoy. Hridoy is starting university in Dhaka, so this was his trip to college.<br /><br />The train was faster than the one we took to Chittagong. This particular one was considered express, and only stopped at a handful of stations. We got back in just 6 hours as compared to the 8 it took going out. It also had higher quality food, including better potato chips. Auvi approved of it being good, as opposed to the food on the way out. On the train I spent a lot of time drawing in Auvi’s notebook. I drew tons of maps, mostly of the US. I also drew my family tree as well as Ayon’s family tree. (pics: myself drawing maps and family trees/Chittagong Hill Tracts as seen from the Dhaka-Chittagong train)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnlcsVrxsogviLHXX9Y-ExBrPxQ1yBm9Zmm8J2fr4kO-GF-n1MfSpa3YpZX2lv3UWYP5JTHjOHDwd6gtnw65gFsossxCNvK-uqjRLRT-XyjVgUKfODqKvQqvTyanM_a7wDAbnPRHdgAvv/s1600-h/aDSC09298.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240204859865820850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnlcsVrxsogviLHXX9Y-ExBrPxQ1yBm9Zmm8J2fr4kO-GF-n1MfSpa3YpZX2lv3UWYP5JTHjOHDwd6gtnw65gFsossxCNvK-uqjRLRT-XyjVgUKfODqKvQqvTyanM_a7wDAbnPRHdgAvv/s320/aDSC09298.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3fwwTGU3q_kffNWDbPGkpFGwmDw84drduj_BJnXSyawlRFojZGmaAQCJDyZgbOrcW-fFYwdA-yoV7T3DDBkT8qky65VPKs8JEZGhi3fI2jkzdinnIWb8ebvKRqKS3LxndE2rpy6qGKCr/s1600-h/aDSC09289.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240205499376196802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3fwwTGU3q_kffNWDbPGkpFGwmDw84drduj_BJnXSyawlRFojZGmaAQCJDyZgbOrcW-fFYwdA-yoV7T3DDBkT8qky65VPKs8JEZGhi3fI2jkzdinnIWb8ebvKRqKS3LxndE2rpy6qGKCr/s320/aDSC09289.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Upon getting back, I headed home, and rushed around the afternoon getting ready for Altaf’s wedding reception tonight.<br />I had wanted to wear my new French cuffed shirt and cuff links tonight, but my tailor still wasn’t done with my stuff. I picked up my cuff links at the jeweler though, and I’m happy with them.<br />While out, I stopped to weigh myself at a streetside scale. I hopped on in anticipation: 143 lbs. I’ve lost a bit more from the last times I was weighing myself. In total now, about 25 pounds since arriving in Bangladesh.<br />Also bought a toothbrush from the street. Despite always being shown these on the bus and the street, I had yet to buy one from there. I can now say I’ve done that.<br />I also went to FedEx near my home and confirmed prices with them, the procedure for shipping, and got a box that I’ll start packing things into to bring back to them. For the box I want to use, I can’t take it from their office, so I have to pack my things in one box, bring it to their office, and repack it in another box.<br /><br />I end up walking through the remnants of a <a href="http://www.topix.net/content/ap/2008/08/student-activists-seek-ex-bangladesh-pms-release-2">political demonstration today</a>, or perhaps a riot. Dhaka College students, near New Market, had taken to the streets in protest of actions by the government. I saw remnants of what looked to be a burned car, and there was broken glass all over the streets. The street itself was closed to vehicles, and I didn’t know why until I reached Dhaka college. All the buses and cars were being rerouted down Elephant Road, what a mess! A lot of the New Market stores had closed up shop, locked their doors in worry. The police presence was incredible, all in their riot gear. But still pedestrians were just walking by on their daily duties. Some groups of people still seemed to be in protesting mode, gathering in large groups to yell about something, but the police weren’t minding them too much. I did avoid the crowd just in case. The police, by the time I left, were less interested in what had happened and more interested in the hawkers selling hand towels, children’s masks, and guavas.<br />When I got home I saw I had received an email <a href="http://dhaka.usembassy.gov/security_notice_aug25_08.html">notice</a> from the US Embassy to avoid this area, ooops.<br /><br />Tonight was Altaf’s wedding reception. I was very excited as it was the first time I would meet his older brother Anwar (who is the reason I met so many people in Bangladesh) and his wife, Jayita’s older sister, Sanjana. The reception was at the Officer’s Club on Baily Road. I was wearing a suit, and because it was so hot, I decided to take an AC taxi to the wedding. Expensive, but as I only take buses, I’m felt I can splurge this one time (it is about 10 more times expensive to take that taxi than a bus.)<br />Upon walking in I immediately got to meet Sanjana, and no less than 2 minutes later Anwar came by to introduce himself. Finally met them. I talked to Sanjana a little bit as she was not as busy as Anwar. As the groom’s brother, he was running around saying hello to everyone and making sure they were happy. We chatted a little bit before I left, and I arranged to see him and his wife before they leave to go back to the US. (pics: myself/Ayon at Altaf's wedding, Ayon/Annita/Hridoy and other cousins at the wedding, the reception hall)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyONZOAzqBjw3hOVvzFrRQgwaX2ig1Gqsn-HDNBFtl0Mf3XFlTBN8QgQpU2JDPD5h21XO8AGFumGMJj1ruhBP5HZgvQSAoE026_PzuP_XdIsiwYi2FgbYihgXGqSjDLy165tSPFgMfwvn/s1600-h/aDSC09321.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240204863437061490" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyONZOAzqBjw3hOVvzFrRQgwaX2ig1Gqsn-HDNBFtl0Mf3XFlTBN8QgQpU2JDPD5h21XO8AGFumGMJj1ruhBP5HZgvQSAoE026_PzuP_XdIsiwYi2FgbYihgXGqSjDLy165tSPFgMfwvn/s320/aDSC09321.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSWmX0YyGHH0rirLycfYh3AXhxQC_W-nLq-w7723REk1898hzo9oe9V29Hkm7N52s_4SDZ1BaHsBQP1zWBjacJFdSATPm_KguEHghA3Mj5fiCkya4FUk__NWy6qVrllHBPtFS9DcJg_2q/s1600-h/aDSC09308.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240204866668585218" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSWmX0YyGHH0rirLycfYh3AXhxQC_W-nLq-w7723REk1898hzo9oe9V29Hkm7N52s_4SDZ1BaHsBQP1zWBjacJFdSATPm_KguEHghA3Mj5fiCkya4FUk__NWy6qVrllHBPtFS9DcJg_2q/s320/aDSC09308.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qtoo49CILSYsxry4-Sc11peiEjUe5QPc0oWTdeS5oP9_hKdt5IuVTiWf3Pi62L27XC20LC2iwUaxEZaRnivG6Yww883ngifBXK5nzTgZN429M2f13oTU5L8JnX_ZWQp03eoENtuNTqaD/s1600-h/aDSC09305.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240204859246810530" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qtoo49CILSYsxry4-Sc11peiEjUe5QPc0oWTdeS5oP9_hKdt5IuVTiWf3Pi62L27XC20LC2iwUaxEZaRnivG6Yww883ngifBXK5nzTgZN429M2f13oTU5L8JnX_ZWQp03eoENtuNTqaD/s320/aDSC09305.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I went up on stage to take a photo with Altaf and his wife like everyone else. Congratualted him, and we had as long a chat as a wedding reception allows a groom to have…a few seconds.<br /><br /><strong>51st-7th in Dhaka 8/26<br /></strong><br />Today I grabbed a photo of the recycling place that I had talked about last week. It is here where they will collect your trash and give you money for it. (pic: recycling center or the place they will pay you for your reusable trash)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn35BuxSs6fWzHi_kOfzmsJXnLKsF3xLO6Asxe3H2RU6BcAjvJN0TMAhU5Kih0P2Ggq9JOYea5SPcYdYvmgNk25MN3WLFKJcMePaADy-0FtzefPpDjvoTE00Tm-HTlPjHjOwTfKINGHK1r/s1600-h/aDSC09323.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240204867033804050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn35BuxSs6fWzHi_kOfzmsJXnLKsF3xLO6Asxe3H2RU6BcAjvJN0TMAhU5Kih0P2Ggq9JOYea5SPcYdYvmgNk25MN3WLFKJcMePaADy-0FtzefPpDjvoTE00Tm-HTlPjHjOwTfKINGHK1r/s320/aDSC09323.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I spent some time today packing up my cabinet’s drawers. Emptying out everything, and putting it into the box, to bring to FedEx next week. Choosing what to take and what not is tough. I’m trying to create a pile of junk, but also don’t want to miss out on things that meant a lot to me here.<br /><br />Selling my furniture has been easier but at the same time more stressful than I imagined. Although I have buyers for everything pretty much, everyday I feel I’m getting hounded by people insisting I sell them something, as opposed to the people I’ve already promised it too. Everyone feels they deserve it more, and are stubborn when I tell them “no,” and they get a bit angry. And others feel I should give it to them for free using the foolproof argument “you very rich American, I so poor Bangladeshi.”<br /><br />Headed out to ride the buses. I did the #1 bus from Gulistan to Mirpur-12, and then the Safety bus between Mirpur-12 and Azimpur twice. Jams were bad, but not hair pulling. I almost dosed off on the second route. I had lunch up in Mirpur at a place I’d been looking at for awhile, and it was less than impressive.<br /><br />Been trying to capture photos of all the “_FC” restaurants in Dhaka and around Bangladesh. To my knowledge there is AFC, BFC, CFC, DFC, FFC, GFC, HFC, KFC, MFC, and TFC. I’ll try to post a collage of them if I can get them all.<br /><br />At night I had to meet the DHL van in front of Dhanmondi 8/A, because they didn’t want to find my home. I also feel this was easier, and was glad to do it.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-19093091637288304922008-08-22T15:23:00.011+06:002008-08-22T23:49:14.597+06:00Week 50: I went to Rangpur, but it is in Dhaka where you'll find the 'Rajdhanir Raja'<strong>50th-1st in Dhaka 8/13</strong><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><br />I bought more pineapples last night. I asked Moweena to cut them up this morning. But this time without using a chili! Last time she added a chili to my pineapple, as that is what is typically done in Bangladesh. Spicy!<br />Also had a discussion with her this morning about what the different words to describe fruits and vegetables are after she told me my pineapple was unripe. There were three words we were throwing around, and I was trying to find out which was which. One seemed to be for when it was on the tree and unripe, one for when its off the tree and unripe, and one when its rip. And for when its bad: she just said “throw it away” but never gave me a vocabulary word.<br /><br />I then headed out to work, but first stopped by New Market to pick up my cuff links. I found the guy, and after waiting there about 5 minutes as they dealt with two other customers, he turns to me and says the didn’t make my cuff links. He told me he went to ten jewelers and no one wanted to make them. So he handed me my pearls back, and gave me my deposit back. I was frustrated.<br />Stormed upstairs to find that elusive jeweler who could help me. I had talked to another guy in the past and went to him. This guy said he could do it, with a confident voice, and I trusted him. We arranged a design, and even decided to add another pearl to the design, and he says it’ll be ready in a week. I’m paying him a bit more, new pearls excluded.<br /><br />I then hopped on four bus routes on a bus I had never ever ridden before, the #36. I’d heard about it in fables: it only allows sitting, and is very strict about it, and provides very quick service. Nafisa used to ride it to work and back. It was my finally my turn. I boarded it in Azimpur, and was a bit confused about the boarding. There was a line, but not everyone was allowed to board. Confused. So I got in line. It only allowed 10 of us on. At the next stop, with 50 people waiting in line, only another 10. Same at the next! And at the last, 10 more, filling all 40 seats of the bus, no more no less. And we were off, straight to our destination, no stops mid-route.<br />I rode the route four times, and it wasn’t until the last time that the bus got caught in a jam. And what a jam! Took us one hour to go about 3 km. it was horrible. When I got off, instead of taking a bus home through the jam. I walked. It was faster. All the buses I passed walking never passed me back. I got home, grabbed my India travel book and brought it to dinner where Erin wanted to copy pages from it for her trip to India next week. In all, I must’ve power walked for 40 minutes!<br />Dinner with Erin was great. We haven’t seen each other in a long time. And thus could talk for hours catching up on stuff. We ate at Korai Gost, and she enjoyed their quality Bangladeshi food.<br /><br /><strong>50th-2nd in Dhaka 8/14</strong><br /><br />Today was a successful day. I did a morning data collection at Tejgaon, standard curbside stuff. Then I waited for Shegufta and another guy who would help us collect survey data on passengers. I was nervous for this, wondered how it would go. I had only recently decided to go forward with this, thanks to some prodding by my dad.<br /><br />Was out there doing a bus count before they arrived. Realized before they came that I really don't have the best Bengali to be asking these questions quickly to bus passengers rushing to get on the bus. So I figured if both of them came, I could ask them to take on the interviews, and I would be there collecting data on the buses passing and the rough male/female split of the survey group.<br />The site I chose for the surveying I realized was good for many reasons. One, the local and ticket bus crowds are separated by a distance, so we could survey them separately and know our survey groups. As well, the buses, due to traffic control, come in waves. So we had large time gaps to interview people without them being distracted by arriving buses.<br />I had crafted three questions that I felt could clearly help understand what passengers are thinking. Simply: Do crowded buses frustrate you? Do you try to avoid crowded buses? Would you pay more for no crowding?They arrived, we went over the questions, and I asked them to translate them into Bengali. I listened to see if I liked how it was being translated. Making sure they interpreted what I wanted correctly. I then told the boy to stand near the local bus riders and interview them, and I told Shegufta to take on the ticket bus riders.Shegfuta did amazing. She had no issue walking up to each person and demanding an interview. I thought being a girl would be detrimental, but instead, I think it helps her. The women will talk to her without worry, and the boys all take up the chance to talk to a girl! On the other hand, the guy she brought to help had a harder time, I can’t imagine what I’d experience. (pics: Shegufta interviewing passengers, Shihab interviewing passengers, Shegufta gets swarmed by young guys hoping she'll interview them, myself/Shegufta after collecting data)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYILK2rukr37bhMcaMGl42oBFHwqUp8GdeWCHyGw9OywKXstnnVAZte6GEhpB5tcIcXL1okuSpV50Xjb2QLjsvw_WtDrr4sQ2JmyDqbg1v2lamEQrlOLtErUOI-AGee6fjG4reFUH4F7J/s1600-h/aDSC08602.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237386804551318402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYILK2rukr37bhMcaMGl42oBFHwqUp8GdeWCHyGw9OywKXstnnVAZte6GEhpB5tcIcXL1okuSpV50Xjb2QLjsvw_WtDrr4sQ2JmyDqbg1v2lamEQrlOLtErUOI-AGee6fjG4reFUH4F7J/s320/aDSC08602.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZG_DzAdinSGvzi8FWWf9jF8MptU9jOcFKVr_8pOsxNSOoBsnoEyke1zMCgV7jdBNZBIVJQ547RRYtiHk11ewotGRwmv7Aj-0rGQT0jHxLTEwaIUl429f8AYc6YHO4qJbICZrE6ubAfME/s1600-h/aDSC08589.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237386800753094818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZG_DzAdinSGvzi8FWWf9jF8MptU9jOcFKVr_8pOsxNSOoBsnoEyke1zMCgV7jdBNZBIVJQ547RRYtiHk11ewotGRwmv7Aj-0rGQT0jHxLTEwaIUl429f8AYc6YHO4qJbICZrE6ubAfME/s320/aDSC08589.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiZ5W3B9Yxgtcl1q9lzUtODizJxsPHz9P_-zNkRuI5X-5GtDKlGOVM7ryNBotYLWWZxEe_T8NiX7APytNGyrmKJotDGwbFhxm9JpB4m5mCJkD_TzCzl4h9gF6pOLEz5RBBYVdYHg69HHl/s1600-h/aDSC08592.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237386798585075042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiZ5W3B9Yxgtcl1q9lzUtODizJxsPHz9P_-zNkRuI5X-5GtDKlGOVM7ryNBotYLWWZxEe_T8NiX7APytNGyrmKJotDGwbFhxm9JpB4m5mCJkD_TzCzl4h9gF6pOLEz5RBBYVdYHg69HHl/s320/aDSC08592.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvN3f85FMZkFS2uqjNxgxCZXRx89UaGOSb2mjTahKkjSyZhJsydNbtQR0gsDQ8l9nZLD_4Nyqb-yZWCdhJyntwcraosyo2OfkA2Xh9lS7UMxz_lgfb04S-_sZScsSBE8mKCG7cc4KT8AOc/s1600-h/aDSC08605.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237386810593113602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvN3f85FMZkFS2uqjNxgxCZXRx89UaGOSb2mjTahKkjSyZhJsydNbtQR0gsDQ8l9nZLD_4Nyqb-yZWCdhJyntwcraosyo2OfkA2Xh9lS7UMxz_lgfb04S-_sZScsSBE8mKCG7cc4KT8AOc/s320/aDSC08605.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We collected almost 300 responses to my questions! About 50/50 ticket and local. Incredible. I couldn't have done it without them, and told them that.<br /><br />I then went and rode the #3 bus twice. Some jams. Nothing spectacular. Got a bit sleepy but didn’t nod off.<br />One old man who sat next to me talked to me about Michael Phelps and how impressive his gold medals are. That was cool. Glad Mr. Phelps is being a good ambassador for my country. The Bangladeshis have 6 athletes in the game, in shooting sports and swimming, but none performed very well. In fact, Bangladesh’s best shooter is currently in jail, and it was clearly disappointing to my friends.<br /><br />I collected data in the evening at Kakoli bus stand. It started raining a bit, and it made it a bit uncomfortable for awhile. but it stopped after a bit, and the crowd under the overhang I was at dispersed, and then counting became a bit easier. After my work I went to a nearby stall to get some popcorn. One of the guys selling recognized me from another time I’d been working at Kakoli, and asked how I was. This prompted another guy to ask me if I had popcorn in my country. I said of course. And he explained how popcorn only came to Bangladesh just two years ago. I confirmed this later with a friend. Popcorn in Bangladesh for only two years! (pic: Kakoli bus stand at night...the bright light in front is the popcorn stall)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXVBdT0vUuPkEtPjDATRitBafz5aeZRhXTifGGDl0GCKA5Nt-0fAexClFE8N_RGnigtAN7zSG4rF72j8Zj0DL_lj_DZwr8GsC7Va7Dx8Nlsip4v2bUGkXK_ak-aY-rhADbezwX6u6cs0M/s1600-h/aDSC08639.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237385547023352482" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXVBdT0vUuPkEtPjDATRitBafz5aeZRhXTifGGDl0GCKA5Nt-0fAexClFE8N_RGnigtAN7zSG4rF72j8Zj0DL_lj_DZwr8GsC7Va7Dx8Nlsip4v2bUGkXK_ak-aY-rhADbezwX6u6cs0M/s320/aDSC08639.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />50th-3rd in Dhaka 8/15</strong><br /><br />Found <a href="http://www.indiatogether.org/2006/jul/eco-pedest.htm">this article </a>this morning through one of the blogs I read, The City Fix. It touches on so many topics that I had wanted to cover in my initial project: the analysis of the Jatrabari flyover. But due to its cancellation because of corruption, I switched to the bus project. But the article also talks about the pedestrian issue, which had been my second project choice to the crowded bus study. It’s so cool that the issues I’m interested in are written up in one article! I feel like I would’ve been able to write this, I should be the expert by now!<br />It talks about pedestrians not using over bridges or tunnels, but I’ve seen police easily solve this problem at several locations, namely Kakoli and Bangla Motor. Although there is still some non-usage, the police have really gotten people onto the bridge. The bridges though don’t seem ready for it though. The Bangla motor bridge for example ALWAYS has lines to get up the stairs, because the pathway isn’t large enough to handle the volumes.<br /><br />Went to see a movie at Bolaka Cinema tonight. Toma and I had talked about going to see a Bangladeshi movie for a few months, and finally we upped and did it. We arrived at 6:45, and the ticket seller said the movie had started at 6:30. But knowing that I wouldn’t understand much anyway, that most Bangladeshi movies’ plots really don’t need much to understand, and we were just going for pure entertainment, we didn’t mind being 15 minutes late. Actually, we walked in and the movie was just starting, perfect timing.<br />The only other time I’ve seen a movie was Pirates of the Caribbean 3 at the nice theater at Bashundara City. Bolaka’s actual theater was bigger and much older. It had three seating sections separated by price: those closest to the screen were the cheapest, in back were the middle range seats, and the balcony had the most expensive seats. The cheap seats were packed, Toma said with rickshaw wallahs (others have told me this too.) but I was also told this theater is popular with Dhaka University students (but they are out of session right now.)<br />The movie was a riot. I’d seen Bangladeshi movies before, but live was much better. At least 12 characters with speaking parts were killed in the in same scene in which they were introduced, and of course scores of cronies of the bad and good guys were killed off in every scene. So much blood. If this was real life, Bangladesh would be the least densely populated country in the world in less than a year.<br />The movie itself was blurry at points, and the whole time had scratches on the film.<br />People got up to pee continuously, and it seemed people walked out to pee more often during the movie’s songs. People could be heard talking somewhere in the theater the entire time. Phones rang frequently and people always picked up. People cheered when the hero did something great, and roared with laughter at parts (at some parts why they laughed Toma didn’t even know.)<br />The movie had so many characters! I couldn’t keep track with who was who, who was bad, who was good, who loved who. It felt the many plot lines wouldn’t even connect, but apparently they did…and I don’t know how. The hero was in the first scene of the movie, and I swear he then didn’t show up for another 35 minutes while a million other things happened which I didn’t understand how they related to the hero.<br />After the unannounced intermission, placed at the end of a random scene, there were more previews for more movies coming soon, some English.<br />Toma said most people come just to see the movies’ actresses, or starlettes, because of the slightly revealing clothing they wear.<br />Although an action movie, the movie is clearly intentionally a bit silly. The reactions and facial expressions are priceless. The bloodshed unstoppable. The songs full of love amidst falling bodies. fun to dance to. The best part was the crowd who cheered and booed and laughed, and I only wished they did it more!<br />Oh and the movie was called “Rajdhanir Raja” or “King of the Capital.” The plot was roughly about our hero who decides to leave one side of a city’s rivaling big wigs to the other side. He cuts his wild hair and falls in love with his new boss’ daughter. In the end he kills off everyone from his old side. There were so many other fighting parts and mini plots that I don’t even understand, but this was the gist of it. Swords and guns should really be given the leading roles. (pics: Bolaka theater's advertisement for 'Rajdhanir Raja', Bolaka's main lobby, Bolaka's theater during intermission, movie poster for 'Rajdhanir Raja')<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93iq_9X43IoRheEWu99dAi3B_xAho2-4tXmV3csVOxlg2zUSW5K0jARJ9EIrcsqMWfDcdTfs1bSTHURYOZNLi00b86-mYB39_rs9ap02_iUu5HpL3Pwb4zLPzgzP-KS28CPbEi4OxD3mm/s1600-h/aDSC08688.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237385554331173026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93iq_9X43IoRheEWu99dAi3B_xAho2-4tXmV3csVOxlg2zUSW5K0jARJ9EIrcsqMWfDcdTfs1bSTHURYOZNLi00b86-mYB39_rs9ap02_iUu5HpL3Pwb4zLPzgzP-KS28CPbEi4OxD3mm/s320/aDSC08688.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MZ28P_iOTIALfvZaYgAtyK_VYSNMKUTO6Tr9vzveCURshyHUCFg2057u2r2kd-d0-HQhSWu-nDpL7wGdmubkXQ9sjdIw926dZTWc7xIpCffMHa4sadk80egISD4f_Zj7fZ3JxETBRleD/s1600-h/aDSC08685.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237385548928667442" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MZ28P_iOTIALfvZaYgAtyK_VYSNMKUTO6Tr9vzveCURshyHUCFg2057u2r2kd-d0-HQhSWu-nDpL7wGdmubkXQ9sjdIw926dZTWc7xIpCffMHa4sadk80egISD4f_Zj7fZ3JxETBRleD/s320/aDSC08685.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPcsXZWS2IBVrKBcCDKF38PLuunPbDZGCSd63_ONKFiTz2zw36PfCUEM75s8wASd3yY8JyTuYp64bzTezZwGhJKmvSJ6F6AWYZT2vXul8rYROR3iioM4zAU1o8j-utmAVyA1ZATO75OEO/s1600-h/aDSC08674.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237385544356897170" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPcsXZWS2IBVrKBcCDKF38PLuunPbDZGCSd63_ONKFiTz2zw36PfCUEM75s8wASd3yY8JyTuYp64bzTezZwGhJKmvSJ6F6AWYZT2vXul8rYROR3iioM4zAU1o8j-utmAVyA1ZATO75OEO/s320/aDSC08674.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDTo7JP_m_qIQqqkoiKMUuZoUd63CAOEWT1cf9mvfT3S6TPy1fsL2WWo1t2A1oKvy9JSJw-DxhJp1sJUnjSO0PyJBvCn_wPAiBacJ0x82e_tgaFfRIpvSUVR_sxxeHCNVc0sIiKZLeB-f/s1600-h/aDSC08686.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237385547500407730" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDTo7JP_m_qIQqqkoiKMUuZoUd63CAOEWT1cf9mvfT3S6TPy1fsL2WWo1t2A1oKvy9JSJw-DxhJp1sJUnjSO0PyJBvCn_wPAiBacJ0x82e_tgaFfRIpvSUVR_sxxeHCNVc0sIiKZLeB-f/s320/aDSC08686.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />50th-4th in Rangpur 8/16</strong><br /><br />This morning I headed to the Hanif bus station to meet Ayon and his Dhaka University friend Turzo. We were heading up to Turzo’s home in Rangpur to spend a few days relaxing and hanging out. Turzo had invited me about two months prior, and I was glad to come along.<br /><br />The bus ride up was 6 hours long, and Turzo and I sat together. We chatted almost the whole way, getting to know each other. Turzo’s mother was also on the bus with us, as she had been in Dhaka for the wedding of two of Turzo’s cousins (I am told it is legal in Islam for two cousins to marry.) The girl cousin, the new bride, was on the way back to Rangpur for a few days before coming back to be with her new husband.<br />I asked Turzo on the way up how many brothers and sisters he had. One younger brother and one younger sister he told me. I asked their ages, and he said his brother was 13, and in fact, his sister was a twin. I laughed that he calls her his younger sister, not his twin. He told me he is 30 minutes older than his sister, but purposely refers to her as a younger sister! I asked if it is just to tease her that he came out first, and he said of course. And he insisted in childhood that she call him the respectful title of “paiya” and not by his name, because he was older.<br /><br />We arrived in the late afternoon, and after freshening up at his home, we headed over to Carmichael College. This was very close by to Turzo’s home. It is a large expanse of land that has a prominent college in Bangladesh, from which Turzo’s father graduated.. The buildings are from the early 1900s. We roamed the grounds a bit, but it was already getting dark, so we didn’t stay long. Instead we headed into town, ate some chotputi, sat on the steps of a Shahid Minar and chatted. Took some tea which Turzo was proud to say was made with fresh milk. (pics: Ayon walking by Carmichael College, Ayon/Turzo in front of Carmichael College's main building)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgcWqLWA5O1du4A7OgDioAqGagiSOQNPhIJMBc-YDP-UFAL5LbI1QcmdLSVlcmzWgrhJviC61S_uhaSrwvxzIv2Yjm6e6K3g8Ehgv5fTuXCHuv-fg6FMUKTwrJ3RknV7Egsfn-OUvfFRF/s1600-h/aDSC08739.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237383705678908418" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgcWqLWA5O1du4A7OgDioAqGagiSOQNPhIJMBc-YDP-UFAL5LbI1QcmdLSVlcmzWgrhJviC61S_uhaSrwvxzIv2Yjm6e6K3g8Ehgv5fTuXCHuv-fg6FMUKTwrJ3RknV7Egsfn-OUvfFRF/s320/aDSC08739.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihal7mHyWj0fj2Qy8TzOSEHPCkUn5GRx6PuFMfax8bn_WofIyx_NslmkVUR780PGgqQSmcQcP-7mpmvHM3w-yRPrVNVW0CgA_-Jd9NgSTEtGdclEtejIgwqo-S6zTs-jImEeyU8IHvwQWJ/s1600-h/aDSC08746.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237383711262834594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihal7mHyWj0fj2Qy8TzOSEHPCkUn5GRx6PuFMfax8bn_WofIyx_NslmkVUR780PGgqQSmcQcP-7mpmvHM3w-yRPrVNVW0CgA_-Jd9NgSTEtGdclEtejIgwqo-S6zTs-jImEeyU8IHvwQWJ/s320/aDSC08746.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We enjoy a lot of guavas from Turzo’s guava tree behind his house. After not having guava my whole life up until last week, I’ve now eaten a bunch in just a few short days. (pics: Turzo climbing his guava tree to find some good guavas, a mostly-eaten guava)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEdfK0mpcCjZJ1fiGpcewqEc70cnP4OwJkWq1w0dyKq602-KhjmZz4nBxb6_AHOCSrYGkW8ORF_BWMtBVACqhio1AreZEE0vL6cjQibwcruOAV1ZqBvlJ9EM-F1A4lYRsVVPtJy_kf96e/s1600-h/aDSC08724.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237383700464344610" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEdfK0mpcCjZJ1fiGpcewqEc70cnP4OwJkWq1w0dyKq602-KhjmZz4nBxb6_AHOCSrYGkW8ORF_BWMtBVACqhio1AreZEE0vL6cjQibwcruOAV1ZqBvlJ9EM-F1A4lYRsVVPtJy_kf96e/s320/aDSC08724.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCifXNnR1qzJb-ZN0GSsF4IVBBEAy5_N7egU9sHNZT-UAXrU6jmNXn7XTeLI_yCs0zzbl_fLgAe3PmJCTQLoyMIRYiIUaXfnB_Wys6DzULr5FT71xEgNzMNwELP8O-1uDklB2Ir7PPi9vm/s1600-h/aDSC08730.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237383700665895378" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCifXNnR1qzJb-ZN0GSsF4IVBBEAy5_N7egU9sHNZT-UAXrU6jmNXn7XTeLI_yCs0zzbl_fLgAe3PmJCTQLoyMIRYiIUaXfnB_Wys6DzULr5FT71xEgNzMNwELP8O-1uDklB2Ir7PPi9vm/s320/aDSC08730.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Got to play carrom today for the first time. I have the game on my phone, and although I’ve seen people playing it in storefronts, I’ve never gotten the chance to play. The game is played on a board covered in a bit of sand. You flick disks at each other in a fashion similar to billiards. The goal is to get the smaller disks into the holes for points. It was hard to get used to, and I never really was having much luck in aiming by the end. Flicking the disks with the fingers was incredibly hard. Turzo showed us two different types of games that can be played, they both were enjoyable.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyjuCSdJm5tY4E7fB864uSTHaQj6wsmh6kGgZU18f7XJ4majcSxsCKOOQhqtQYVxJiKpikf-RPl7jhsdxwMS2Mzs_4i_w9Sdir9psUhWcdqv0sKzgPQbk0P2LXZtnQE30_F4s2XftzBDY/s1600-h/aDSC08759.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237383711045434402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyjuCSdJm5tY4E7fB864uSTHaQj6wsmh6kGgZU18f7XJ4majcSxsCKOOQhqtQYVxJiKpikf-RPl7jhsdxwMS2Mzs_4i_w9Sdir9psUhWcdqv0sKzgPQbk0P2LXZtnQE30_F4s2XftzBDY/s320/aDSC08759.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAg5AZMyh8avMU3kEntE49eGGZyrOwA6exhP6rvh2SVEa7KDqRmaS8YVsNYHrw4Vj_KV2n3py6EArF-nKVIo0qqIkT0JQ8fouPgyW_t-9ypgAYGNg6Ja48ImvDRCkTLucLeE6ksVmndJ54/s1600-h/aDSC08760.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237382736832682898" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAg5AZMyh8avMU3kEntE49eGGZyrOwA6exhP6rvh2SVEa7KDqRmaS8YVsNYHrw4Vj_KV2n3py6EArF-nKVIo0qqIkT0JQ8fouPgyW_t-9ypgAYGNg6Ja48ImvDRCkTLucLeE6ksVmndJ54/s320/aDSC08760.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pics: Ayon/Turzo/Turzo's brother playing carrom, myself playing carrom)<br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />50th-5th in Rangpur 8/17<br /></strong><br />Today is a major holiday, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shab-e-baraat">Shab-e-Bara'at</a>. Also known as Mid-Sha’ban in most of the Muslim world, one is to spend all night praying. On this day Allah is chooses the destiny of all people on earth for the coming year. It earns its name in South Asia from this, the night of emancipation. When I got up to use the toilet in the middle of the night, I could hear people nearby reciting prayers. Kids like to pop firecrackers on this holiday too says Turzo, and I heard a few pop in the evening and one in the morning.<br /><br />After breakfast, we headed first to a cold storage building, that his father has a part in owning. We were given a tour of the refrigeration equipment, power supply, and then actually into the storage holds where 110,000 bags of potatoes are being held. It was pretty cold in there, but not unbearable. There were five floors of potatoes, all sitting there staying fresh.<br />We then climbed up some rickety metal ladders to the roof and took a view of the surrounding landscape. (pics: cold storage employee/Ayon/Turzo roaming the cold storage and stacks of potatoes, myself amongst the potatoes in cold storage, Turzo climbing on the ladder of the cold storage facility, the view over the land from the top of the cold storage facility)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ot6QvY3HTlepHGD2uv5xh8yUEhaA_Rt8yPj4NIypViWpyC5YIprVT1Nr2Q3AsRm865LQjh-aS7iLmBCj8Q1mbhaq7bUu0Qgj4pyu-LIt5N57tF8yw35xRG0NqnRwEAVpcNgT1Np2pcQg/s1600-h/aDSC08775.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237382739428710194" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ot6QvY3HTlepHGD2uv5xh8yUEhaA_Rt8yPj4NIypViWpyC5YIprVT1Nr2Q3AsRm865LQjh-aS7iLmBCj8Q1mbhaq7bUu0Qgj4pyu-LIt5N57tF8yw35xRG0NqnRwEAVpcNgT1Np2pcQg/s320/aDSC08775.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EZ_nCuPk5CyTQ60XLuizg6GSxk1Kfrah0ewRx5uMlCCSmXA5xfMTX2dFo305UtL1ySp9Y9anUneEOrJJiQAidyADVvz56tNS25QuU-B8UQATWUXr7ptM3gt1l3REFaapMdPDrpuswaV_/s1600-h/aDSC08774.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237382736071766098" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EZ_nCuPk5CyTQ60XLuizg6GSxk1Kfrah0ewRx5uMlCCSmXA5xfMTX2dFo305UtL1ySp9Y9anUneEOrJJiQAidyADVvz56tNS25QuU-B8UQATWUXr7ptM3gt1l3REFaapMdPDrpuswaV_/s320/aDSC08774.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hWKYCMn0ZmkGtmHy2SLYUehlU6fpI5CeRqsxGhawse7x6yym16U3anup0hjqYwXCYYPAU4Ki8OGh-Bwuz7CiKFBx9FYDaly0Mjr6NSpRhDmWAimTSjMULfZffzc6yuiiD0qMOKkbWvKa/s1600-h/aDSC08780.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237382741858849570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hWKYCMn0ZmkGtmHy2SLYUehlU6fpI5CeRqsxGhawse7x6yym16U3anup0hjqYwXCYYPAU4Ki8OGh-Bwuz7CiKFBx9FYDaly0Mjr6NSpRhDmWAimTSjMULfZffzc6yuiiD0qMOKkbWvKa/s320/aDSC08780.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrrzxKNXa5BcpQlEWQ3HUVfp9sizKCoLSScIFvqz4QO9eJKNLbz_-WWGfF0Av_dTrwvew-osvBzXoQSfqlxcz0-mvljPGwxx7-5kCy-lfxGcOwOnIShCw6XEEPn1Od0tsCb_XHkbvF4KV/s1600-h/aDSC08778.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237382740057639762" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrrzxKNXa5BcpQlEWQ3HUVfp9sizKCoLSScIFvqz4QO9eJKNLbz_-WWGfF0Av_dTrwvew-osvBzXoQSfqlxcz0-mvljPGwxx7-5kCy-lfxGcOwOnIShCw6XEEPn1Od0tsCb_XHkbvF4KV/s320/aDSC08778.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From there Turzo took us to a rajbari called Tajhat Palace, built during the 19th century. Today the museum inside just happened to be closed. We walked around it, looked at its exterior, played around, and took pictures. After we sat under a tree in the grass. Was a bit hot out. (pics: Ayon/Turzo in front of Tajhat Palace, Ayon so upset over the museum being closed that he takes it out on me while I was napping)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MFXzU_Gh-VyTcdiwrhgqY9_gIyNB5GrJOuxgHwcbC64yp_akr-d2XbZFGK592PmJCtdFCV43QfmeskTDRzsMYyhXljar7yPe07wXGdBW3UHCLQqkCsI6ZYZLeSziMsBC2gWCR9qTZb3F/s1600-h/aDSC08792.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237276331534098098" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MFXzU_Gh-VyTcdiwrhgqY9_gIyNB5GrJOuxgHwcbC64yp_akr-d2XbZFGK592PmJCtdFCV43QfmeskTDRzsMYyhXljar7yPe07wXGdBW3UHCLQqkCsI6ZYZLeSziMsBC2gWCR9qTZb3F/s320/aDSC08792.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxQuzTS4c4n-F3Q3E0b9xSLQ9UVD_pH4Nc4kVdQEZSM_pacA4JoldCsQ4HlljX-_OOxMrf8K_Rjs6HYCroV_-iuMnPmqWOIL768tLwiuM3o77B0kSKhB6AJqmjEdhniJM23dIUwuhuLub/s1600-h/aDSC08799.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237276336434060354" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxQuzTS4c4n-F3Q3E0b9xSLQ9UVD_pH4Nc4kVdQEZSM_pacA4JoldCsQ4HlljX-_OOxMrf8K_Rjs6HYCroV_-iuMnPmqWOIL768tLwiuM3o77B0kSKhB6AJqmjEdhniJM23dIUwuhuLub/s320/aDSC08799.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We headed home for lunch. His mom made some excellent hilsa fish. We showered and then headed out to Carmichael College again. We wandered the grounds until it started pouring. We sat under the main hall’s overhang for about 45 minutes, meanwhile we played Shollo Guti. (pic: myself/Ayon playing shollo guti)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64VKttStKw3UjSZmEIj6OEsURXQKiLKo4guzSNqSO9xIFj0xuQ73hyS1TCi2Mr1F-6lSaFRE4HvhbUKWVBijZQNQmw6vWllrRibPZtIg9GeKy0SPWR72FKiHrbog_dYD1fgeSDFadu4Uq/s1600-h/aDSC08816.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237276335744984786" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64VKttStKw3UjSZmEIj6OEsURXQKiLKo4guzSNqSO9xIFj0xuQ73hyS1TCi2Mr1F-6lSaFRE4HvhbUKWVBijZQNQmw6vWllrRibPZtIg9GeKy0SPWR72FKiHrbog_dYD1fgeSDFadu4Uq/s320/aDSC08816.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We headed over to the weekly market, known as a “hat [hot]” in Bengali. We were planning to buy a duck for dinner. We thought to explore the rest of the market, but due to the rain, the area was flooded, so we skipped it, but I got this shot of the cow part of the market. Then headed to the ducks. There was a giant basket of baby ducks. We looked at the ducks, and chose the one we wanted. Turzo had me carry it, grasping it tightly by its wings pulled behind its back. It didn’t squirm at all; it’s feet were tied already by the man whole sold it to us. (pics: the cows at the weekly market, baby ducks in a basket, Turzo choosing our duck for dinner, myself carrying the duck home)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHStJjIPefJc5kaY1y5v1NimGoehWJ1H_-PHd-BDgWW85KNXXPo93uEiiuCrP86r7aIZiCze7ii0rihcsSW-e5Vzrfv-2cGpxbXmYj8rXWciLrhwmhU6t4FLDR_VfgPJxpObkp2RcjrLya/s1600-h/aDSC08821.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237276343192325234" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHStJjIPefJc5kaY1y5v1NimGoehWJ1H_-PHd-BDgWW85KNXXPo93uEiiuCrP86r7aIZiCze7ii0rihcsSW-e5Vzrfv-2cGpxbXmYj8rXWciLrhwmhU6t4FLDR_VfgPJxpObkp2RcjrLya/s320/aDSC08821.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CF3Vf2EL99WTGBV2vxCt2e3WTiXq_W_BrZ7BiG-rniCyys2dgAxZfKXo-PiCbq4Cd7i5dROjAjX1LbR5JJltFawBH4H19Tdv_afE0W5Jh-BadVGfFv2krgedm_ffyfzpQ19Jj88MnQ47/s1600-h/aDSC08822.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237276344894483042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CF3Vf2EL99WTGBV2vxCt2e3WTiXq_W_BrZ7BiG-rniCyys2dgAxZfKXo-PiCbq4Cd7i5dROjAjX1LbR5JJltFawBH4H19Tdv_afE0W5Jh-BadVGfFv2krgedm_ffyfzpQ19Jj88MnQ47/s320/aDSC08822.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmsNH_uk_7ygUx4g6M7ThXi9G86_rt33ClFcSZSCJtCdjBZDqAinoZXCbYPwVqw5qE4tor5_-fTav6O4X7N9-HmSkaFupCJZa_9eCRjgAybmWSEShDLoArat9A0ki4mBrk42vi-m6AMej/s1600-h/aDSC08828.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237275181548849650" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmsNH_uk_7ygUx4g6M7ThXi9G86_rt33ClFcSZSCJtCdjBZDqAinoZXCbYPwVqw5qE4tor5_-fTav6O4X7N9-HmSkaFupCJZa_9eCRjgAybmWSEShDLoArat9A0ki4mBrk42vi-m6AMej/s320/aDSC08828.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB93667Y_laMiXtaoBnkjiNB_6n0Sux_sem-aq0ZIE2aA9YBNx1B0BHsFYIbMDh1zpLVtw2eINn_m-W5rhS1KVYye3KCwTJnwVyXltWK8maLObo-MMnYBOrI8_Oar_ogU7euBKVjYTf3ZO/s1600-h/aDSC08830.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237275182574358450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB93667Y_laMiXtaoBnkjiNB_6n0Sux_sem-aq0ZIE2aA9YBNx1B0BHsFYIbMDh1zpLVtw2eINn_m-W5rhS1KVYye3KCwTJnwVyXltWK8maLObo-MMnYBOrI8_Oar_ogU7euBKVjYTf3ZO/s320/aDSC08830.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At home, we had to slaughter the duck for his mother so she could cook dinner. I held the neck and body while Turzo held the head, and sliced the neck’s main vein. He explained we were slaughtering it in a prescribed way to ensure the food was halal under Islamic law. This is the first time in my life I have played a role in preparing meat beyond the cooking. (pic: Turzo/myself slaughtering the duck for dinner)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8a8u_uth70FEvGIehaOQu0ICiYWPTyr3yfApiAeLtRq64Cvn6voSx5bKWjA7_VO_bBXPCqNh1FxTaysT4bnKfqySeDWFuE37zsRN1pNCrltg6frVKr-LqeeogTQlvfKF76dzH26vSFCAO/s1600-h/aDSC08842.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237275186574937314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8a8u_uth70FEvGIehaOQu0ICiYWPTyr3yfApiAeLtRq64Cvn6voSx5bKWjA7_VO_bBXPCqNh1FxTaysT4bnKfqySeDWFuE37zsRN1pNCrltg6frVKr-LqeeogTQlvfKF76dzH26vSFCAO/s320/aDSC08842.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We went after this to go buy my bus ticket for tomorrow. As well, we headed by rickshaw across town to see the gate of Turzo’s old school. We couldn’t go inside as it was night, but even in the day, random visitors aren’t allowed. So he just pointed to things over the fence.<br /><br /><strong>50th-6th in Rangpur 8/18</strong><br /><br />We headed out this morning to visit the birthplace of <a href="http://banglapedia.search.com.bd/HT/H_0170.htm">Begum Rokeya</a>, famous for her works for getting women’s education accepted in Bengal, and pioneering many women’s rights ideas. She is a native of Rangpur, and her place of birth was relatively close to Turzo’s home. The house is now just a foundation, but it’s also an ornamented garden. Since there was no information about the woman there, I asked Turzo to tell me more about her. He told me a detailed history of her life and the struggles she went through. It is incredible the effort she had to put into convincing women themselves they deserved an education. He explained how many Bengali women were superstitious about even talking to her, and would shut the door on her, and then pour water over her from an upstairs window as she turned to leave. She was also an accomplished writer having many of her essays, poems, and stories published. Her biggest impacts may have been her fight against the injustices she saw for Muslim women in Bengal, fighting against the restrictions that hurt their physical and emotional growth. (pic: Ayon at the home in which Begum Rokeya was born)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsRgOM1ysz5x5_cqOv-x1Lbig1Xyy9f5LZcmxeWnkHreK6tzesoa-RVQCpmTs7OttL-FQnManaqeS-Mct35hlg42fcqxtoyLLp3KgYsEh97Ss_GL3x7T5JfmYOUz21vUqsuOKL0DbnrLT/s1600-h/aDSC08852.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237275187825409570" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsRgOM1ysz5x5_cqOv-x1Lbig1Xyy9f5LZcmxeWnkHreK6tzesoa-RVQCpmTs7OttL-FQnManaqeS-Mct35hlg42fcqxtoyLLp3KgYsEh97Ss_GL3x7T5JfmYOUz21vUqsuOKL0DbnrLT/s320/aDSC08852.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After lunch, I headed home. The bus ride home was fun. I started reading “Freedom at Midnight” and was flying through the pages. Another book which my father left behind for me. Very thankful he did. Once it got dark, I put on my CDs. Despite all my traveling in Bangladesh, this is only my second bus ride alone. Guess I’ll have a lot more in India next month.<br /><br />The ride was fine, but as usual, after the snack break, I had to pee. Yes I peed at the stop, and I had not been drinking any water. But suddenly at the Jamuna Bridge, 2 hours at least from Dhaka, I had to go. It just got worse and worse. I decided that I would get off the bus outside of Dhaka when they let off some passengers, but close enough that I could still board a Dhaka city bus to finish the journey in. Then it stared raining, and everyone shut the windows. So now it was hot and stuffy, we were going slower because of the rain, and I had to pee still. We hit the stretch of road where I could get off the next time the bus stopped and then a miracle happened. We hit a really bad traffic jam. Our bus stopped, and it looked like we wouldn’t move for an hour. I got off the bus and went to the side of the road and had the most relieving pee of my recent memory.<br /><br />The jam was bad. We didn’t move at all. Then to make things worse, cars and buses behind us decided they’d use the opposing traffics lane to scoot to the front of the line when no vehicles were coming. Then that lane got backed up! This made things worse obviously, because the opposing traffic now had nowhere to move, and thus whatever was causing the jam ahead was not being solved.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIblcIiITVpuOOUzAI4tlLe0SWP1UcMExM5hZTc4tJybSDO_Rjqkft3mJQHau5fHEO8ef0FYAykG_0JF0-guxLBTpuWGBxBZTmB9ClidntZLCYy1bE1i1OpNdJbP-IO7j6h4Lo1xDV5BhY/s1600-h/aDSC08865.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237275185650834338" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIblcIiITVpuOOUzAI4tlLe0SWP1UcMExM5hZTc4tJybSDO_Rjqkft3mJQHau5fHEO8ef0FYAykG_0JF0-guxLBTpuWGBxBZTmB9ClidntZLCYy1bE1i1OpNdJbP-IO7j6h4Lo1xDV5BhY/s320/aDSC08865.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: stuck in a jam in the rain at night coming back to Dhaka)<br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />50th-7th in Dhaka 8/19</strong><br /><br />Erin called me this morning. She had denied an Indian visa, and although I couldn’t do anything to help, she was just calling to express her anger and annoyance. Why, they wouldn’t say. But now all her travel plans to India have to be scrapped. It’s such a shame. I can’t see why she would be denied. Everyone seems to leave the Indian Embassy in Dhaka with a horror story of some sort. She waited there to get an answer but as given none. She tried calling, and was hung up on several times and until she was screamed at for repeatedly calling.<br /><br />I rode four buses today, the jams were incredible, especially on the first route. An hour just to go a few blocks. It rained pretty bad today, and that’s what was causing the jams I guess. In front of my house it was flooded, meaning I had to wade through ankle deep gray water. Gross, but what else can you do. Long after the rain was gone, the jams persisted. I said it before, I think the traffic has gotten worse since I’ve arrived.<br /><br />People always seem to point out that I have a few “red dots” on my face. They comment saying that I have mosquito bites. Nope, sorry I have to say, they are called pimples, and only because of my fair skin they stand out as opposed to someone with a darker complexion. It’s a bit embarrassing since they are pointing out pimples I have, but not so much since they don’t realize that is what it is. They seem quite concerned that I’m getting too many mosquito bites. This has happened over ten times at least.<br /><br />Tonight I went to get my hair cut. I went to a new place that I’d seen recently open up. It looked really nice inside. I walked in, and they were playing a song by the Bangladeshi rock band Artcell, one of my favorites. So I figured the place was perfect: great music, great décor, and that would surely translate to a great haircut. Well the great haircut was good, but I had to backtrack on my statement of good music. I should just say “good song.” They played that same song almost the entire time I had a haircut. On the sixth play, I asked if they had anything else. They let the song play once more before they changed it.<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-32105019177264502012008-08-15T14:03:00.013+06:002008-08-15T23:01:05.443+06:00Week 49: After being on these buses so long, I can't wait to ride my lifelong love again soon: TRAIN!<div><div><strong>49th-1st in Dhaka 8/6</strong><br /><div><br />Spent part of the day updating my paper for the conference. I had gotten some comments from Dr. Rahman, and some others from when my dad had read through the paper. I worked through what were issues, discussed some of it with Saket and Samantha online, and produced a piece which I’m very proud to submit. I went out to get the copyright form and registration form printed out.<br /><br />In the afternoon, after spending the majority of the day doing all this, I went out and rode two buses. I did the #13 two times, and the ride back was the most I’d ever seen the bus get crowded. It was great data! I had a good time collecting despite it being really uncomfortable on the bus…it’s crowded remember?<br /><br /><strong>49th-2nd in Dhaka 8/7</strong><br /><br />I woke up with a bit of heartburn, and a pain in my stomach. Didn’t want to do the morning data collection. Somehow I convinced myself to get up and go to Kalabagan though. It was only one hour, and I thought I could handle it. I did, it wasn’t fun, but now it’s out of the way. At home, I rested. Was not feeling good. Had some breakfast, despite the heartburn, of rice and fish.<br />I then organized myself to go submit my paper to the conference. I got the paper printed out three times somewhere, burned the CD, and got the materials to send to India. I went to Sundarbans Courier Service last night and they said they send to India. So I went back today to send. I wrote the envelope out, and put everything inside. They then picked it up, looked inside, and told me they can’t send CDs. While they were discussing amongst each other why they can’t do this, I grabbed my stuff and walked out.<br /><br />I ended up having to take all these things to DHL. They were willing to ship it, but it is expensive. Had to pay, no other choice as far as I can tell. While there, I asked them again about prices to ship things to the US. It is also very expensive. I really need to figure out what I’m doing about all this stuff I want to bring home. Especially since it costs so much just to bring it on the planes.<br /><br />I saw these guys on the street in Azimpur. Always tried to get a shot of the guys with the bees! (pic: these men sell honeycomb, but they keep it fresh with lots of bees...and then walk around with this bowl full of honey and bees on their head) [and I have to add that I have been singing this song since I saw these guys because of the second line "I've got bees on my head, but don't call me a bee head": the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgX-NCNakpo">theme song from the Andy Milonakis Show</a> (didn't post this originally but my friend Ben sent me the youtube link so I decided to post)] <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgdkocMasbHzRlPEcwf5YSsYDe4RmbPmRei6zhDvUjdxnqta51KvNYRqnPUtEO_nqD1HQ13AugJmQ-cY9fUZmCvXS7TZwPT0v-tzyQWkK646WRPE-A-whanyKA0f8ZiDxPTG6Z7t9ZM2r/s1600-h/aDSC08525.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234675284913612210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgdkocMasbHzRlPEcwf5YSsYDe4RmbPmRei6zhDvUjdxnqta51KvNYRqnPUtEO_nqD1HQ13AugJmQ-cY9fUZmCvXS7TZwPT0v-tzyQWkK646WRPE-A-whanyKA0f8ZiDxPTG6Z7t9ZM2r/s320/aDSC08525.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I then rode the #9 bus, and boy did it fly through its route. The bus got super packed too! Buses like this are exact reasons why my original hypothesis was wrong.<br />During and after I was feeling sick still. Perhaps it was lunch, maybe stuff lingering from the morning. But although I wanted to ride one more bus, I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and instead took a bus straight home.<br /><br />At home I was sick, maybe the worst of all my times. I drank saline and ate crackers, but that only helped so much. I tried watching movies, but all I had were boring, and I ended up falling asleep.<br /><br /><strong>49th-3rd in Dhaka 8/8</strong><br /><br />Still not feeling too good today when I woke up. Stomach pain. Hungry, but afraid to eat. I had enough energy though to make it over to Auvi’s place. We had been planning for me to come back over for lunch sometime, as he wanted to serve me the beef I loved when I ate there last time. We also had plans to discuss our trip to Chittagong sometime in the coming month.<br />I had lunch there, which his mother encouraged me to eat. I took rice and some vegetables on my plate, and she also insisted I eat some beef and chicken. Nothing spicy, nothing oily. Just foods to fill me and get me back to a normal diet.<br />After lunch we hung out in Auvi’s room. His friend Zarif was over too. They are in the middle of their final exams of their last semester at university. Zarif was studying for an exam. They also have a final project due next week, they have to build a line following robot. And they haven’t even started. Auvi tried explaining to me why, and what they’re going to do, but I still never really understood how there was any way anything was going to happen.<br />We worked out our Chittagong trip dates. We’re going to travel two weekends from now. Next weekend I’ll be in Rangpur with Ayon and his university friends. I’m excited.<br /><br />After spending the afternoon there, Zarif and I headed back to Dhanmondi together. I watched “Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay” I liked it a lot, enough to go back and watch the original afterward. I ate dinner at home of crackers and soup as my stomach still wasn’t 100%<br /><br /><strong>49th-4th in Dhaka 8/9<br /></strong><br />Moweena took a giant bag of recyclables today. She said she’ll get Tk15 per kg at the scrap junk place. Bottles and paper and plastic, she’ll get money for all of this. The bag was half her size! She collects all the stuff in the kitchen. When I realized what she was doing, I stopped throwing things away and put them in the kitchen instead, so she wouldn't have to go through the garbage later. (pics: Moweena with the bag of recyclables, all the items we've saved over the past two months)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWknOFmUbxpY_fXk94dAhW1gzHqzJqy7AJ8Pn0BTkrXMu-51Yl9oXDJDG4TLm2eloblD7o9qS6iveE2LbiI70DywTeIb3pLT7cJoQl0X5UpkL9ICBvcrVThd01tI46fDnbc6EDTlIe_VaF/s1600-h/aDSC08535.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234674753032962226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWknOFmUbxpY_fXk94dAhW1gzHqzJqy7AJ8Pn0BTkrXMu-51Yl9oXDJDG4TLm2eloblD7o9qS6iveE2LbiI70DywTeIb3pLT7cJoQl0X5UpkL9ICBvcrVThd01tI46fDnbc6EDTlIe_VaF/s320/aDSC08535.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAhfeL0TwjPwwJW6rkT0zEY7hRsISXsQ1II8mnRspY-U0ai5gGGpnppHkkXJaX81v-JIONd2J8nUNZvxK6qct7FaifHhS7W-809Y4yLv04-fAdN4yhdDWk43XfSXy9l-nKRPhRb-pfzCT/s1600-h/aDSC08534.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234674749926889762" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAhfeL0TwjPwwJW6rkT0zEY7hRsISXsQ1II8mnRspY-U0ai5gGGpnppHkkXJaX81v-JIONd2J8nUNZvxK6qct7FaifHhS7W-809Y4yLv04-fAdN4yhdDWk43XfSXy9l-nKRPhRb-pfzCT/s320/aDSC08534.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The places in which you sell this stuff confused me for the first few months. Even when my father asked me what it was on my parents’ visit, I didn’t know at the time. The places look like stores selling garbage, or perhaps nothing at all.<br /><br />I’m feeling a bit better today, but rice and fish for breakfast wasn’t very appetizing.<br /><br />Diya picked me up in her father’s car and we went to a movie screening in Gulshan. Her friend Adnan had produced with his friends a film about historical sites and history of Bangladesh. They called it “Finding Bangladesh” and they were motivated by their lack of knowledge about their own country. They had the Westin’s ballroom reserved, with lots of chairs set up in front of a giant screen.<br />Geared to students, and light on the seriousness, it had them exploring the best sites of Bangladesh, in an effort to educate kids about what is really out there. The film was funny, they did a great job editing, and although there were points where it was a tad awkward, it was a good production. If I had to make recommendations to them, it’d be to remove some of their personal sentiments. Their input about repainting Ahsan Manzil pink as disheartening, or that the government isn’t doing a good job maintaining certain sites, made the film lose a bit of credibility as an educational tool. Also, I would recommend them to get all their facts straight. They dated some buildings several centuries too early, especially in Sonargaon where they labeled a group of 18th century buildings 13th century. As well, they said one old temple was 100 meters tall! That would make it the tallest building in Bangladesh! It looked more about 10 meters tall. I’ll forgive them for their spelling mistakes that showed up on film.<br />The best parts were definitely recognizing that this is the first film of its kind by students in Bangladesh. Very impressive. They have no budget, yet took the time to visit the places and see all the sites. Then edit and make an hour plus long film. And then get it out to the public so well!<br />They have two more films to go, as they split the country up into thirds, covering two divisions in each film. Was very glad Diya invited me along to this. (pics: Diya and the invitation to the movie screening, the giant screen and stage before the screening of "Finding Bangladesh")<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4lyPQeyiYIKczkHvdqvoSXQgXFIW1YqxxDXqxxqUYJkDMCRxWhqY3UrsNasRfBzhP60Uchm02BswnP6XvBAyKF9FW_6XV-RryQkjXZQtH6b7-PDEvjYhgrxKx3S66dqCkh09mI9U_9xW/s1600-h/aDSC08536.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234674754688899346" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4lyPQeyiYIKczkHvdqvoSXQgXFIW1YqxxDXqxxqUYJkDMCRxWhqY3UrsNasRfBzhP60Uchm02BswnP6XvBAyKF9FW_6XV-RryQkjXZQtH6b7-PDEvjYhgrxKx3S66dqCkh09mI9U_9xW/s320/aDSC08536.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS14_WysnbC2UGNhYy-UEqs7fLpkM9cZFywChLZrt7T1qmZW9x6SR2ayxpYgoRpHpFYu4-d1gNLvb5Mtef_kfQX5VHbg9BzA8S2mT-cjXD7i52voOgMddeOzpEXz_oODJQN1Z5TVMhUDDU/s1600-h/aDSC08539.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234674761313755650" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS14_WysnbC2UGNhYy-UEqs7fLpkM9cZFywChLZrt7T1qmZW9x6SR2ayxpYgoRpHpFYu4-d1gNLvb5Mtef_kfQX5VHbg9BzA8S2mT-cjXD7i52voOgMddeOzpEXz_oODJQN1Z5TVMhUDDU/s320/aDSC08539.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Diya’s mom picked us up to go home. On the way back we stopped at the BDR shop, a supermarket of sorts, her mom needed to get eggs. Diya wanted to wait in the car, but I was glad to go in with her mom. Being there, looking at the few shelves, and watching her with the shopping cart, made me think of being with my own mother at Foodtown. I just looked at the shelves and bought some things too: spring rolls, chocolate chip cookies, juice. Diya came in as we were checking out. I had wanted to help bag, but there were many gentlemen there to do that for us. The resulting outcome: I miss helping my mother shop for food, and look forward to it when I get home! (pic: Diya and her mother at the BDR shop)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3kTkwEzMXShjaOrbio-JQXqLHy6Zv5WiAxQMfO7D1rmwAl6EF5VFv0naNJCV2vzFj987I0hlTpH2NaWL5mEUKu9aeYx5TXNv-KgjORmsaw_Gsuhj3-DArJm6fvBAGWtDSfP7pCiuVi46/s1600-h/aDSC08551.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234674764215086370" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3kTkwEzMXShjaOrbio-JQXqLHy6Zv5WiAxQMfO7D1rmwAl6EF5VFv0naNJCV2vzFj987I0hlTpH2NaWL5mEUKu9aeYx5TXNv-KgjORmsaw_Gsuhj3-DArJm6fvBAGWtDSfP7pCiuVi46/s320/aDSC08551.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I watched a movie tonight, and was eating dinner during. But the audio and visual tracking lost each other, and it was annoying to watch after that. Turned it off and went to bed.<br /><br /><strong>49th-5th in Dhaka 8/10</strong><br /><br />I went to Auvi’s around lunchtime as we were going to go to Kamalapur Station to buy our train tickets. We had lunch there as well. But things didn’t turn out so well when we went to the station. The tickets aren’t on sale until two days from now, which is surprising as the trip is only 11 days away. It seemed a bit ridiculous to both of us.<br /><br />Had raw guava for the first time today. Didn’t know the things that everyone were eating like an apple were guavas! Probably never would’ve tried it if Auvi hadn’t handed me a piece. I’ve only had it in juice form, and I think I recall it being pink then, while this was entirely white.<br /><br />After this, I went to Tejgaon where I did two evening data collections, one on either side of the road. It was raining, and so I had to stand underneath an umbrella the entire time. Luckily I had something to rest my clipboard on so I could still write and hold the umbrella at the same time. No one bothered to talk to me tonight because no one wanted to be in the rain, of course if they wanted to stand under my umbrella, I would’ve been totally fine with it.<br /><br />After I went and got a snack, which ended up being my dinner, at a bakery. I found a fried roll with pasta inside! Very interesting, that I ordered an extra. However, despite its tastiness, what I really wanted tonight was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grease_Trucks">Grease Trucks’ Fat Sandwich</a>, the wonderful food sold at Rutgers University. So filling, so tasty. Texted Chris, an RU alumnus, to let him know.<br /><br /><strong>49th-6th in Dhaka 8/11<br /></strong><br />I left my house early to head to Tejgaon again for the morning data collection. For some reason it was really hard to get there! A pain! Took a half hour to cross to Dhanmondi. My first rickshaw went a bizarre way and I had to leave him and take another as we were stuck. Then the bus was stuck in a massive jam, and I was crushed like never before inside.<br />I honestly feel the jams have gotten worse in Dhaka since I arrived. More frequent and longer waits.<br /><br />I did the first data collection. The ticket guy near me recognized me from another place another day.<br />After that I headed up to Gulshan. Got breakfast at Coffee World, and had a waffle.<br />Saw that A&W got closed down. Asked a guard across the street what happened and when. He said it was one week ago, and it was because they had not paid their rent in 3 years! I guess I won’t be having Iftar there this year.<br />Went to the Jet Airways office to check out airfares. Decided against flying them, I’d only be doing it for flight miles, and it’s too much for what I’d be earning. Will fly budget airlines for sure.<br />Went by UPS and FedEx today, and very surprisingly they are much much cheaper than DHL! 3 times as cheap. My calculations tell me that for a 25kg package through DHL, it would cost $650 to ship to the US. UPS is only $260 and FedEx is $198! Bizarre a little. Both UPS and FedEx have a 25kg box special that is a great deal, the prices above. I pick up the box from then, fill it up, and ship it, up to 25kg. So I’ll be doing that for sure. Only catch is the box is a fixed size that isn’t too big, so I want to make sure I put my heaviest things in it, to make sure it hits the 25kg.<br /><br />Went back to Tejgaon to do two more midday data collections, one on either side of the road. Nothing exciting, it started to rain a bit again and I had to use the umbrella. (pics: my simple tools for counting buses, the best picture I've caputred of a crowded bus and people running to the door and cramming every last spot)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyJ1L3lOlQEUSDsWTRbsvDq3zzL2ONUgTThIu_5pAg_FawEJzNpavQyKrb4MY9D8XHgB8XonZXkIVV4wm7fbuHTUJs-LGfj4yo7j0ObObESN0zQa4FYvJJ4gI4Kgs673kt8Mlrwef8hwg/s1600-h/aDSC08570.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234673676994031842" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyJ1L3lOlQEUSDsWTRbsvDq3zzL2ONUgTThIu_5pAg_FawEJzNpavQyKrb4MY9D8XHgB8XonZXkIVV4wm7fbuHTUJs-LGfj4yo7j0ObObESN0zQa4FYvJJ4gI4Kgs673kt8Mlrwef8hwg/s320/aDSC08570.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjJrWNxUeSEwiaynOcB3QtsA-NR8bu2KPXNyQWVldpQpGRiDfvBmGCEhMJNe-v38wb4nj7Raw4VgyhSYWFUPYL3h8r2HPMt4jdKZSQeOVddMutVUwAux-Ay9FPYiGskCoinq_1MAZOF5V/s1600-h/aDSC08554.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234673671879308722" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjJrWNxUeSEwiaynOcB3QtsA-NR8bu2KPXNyQWVldpQpGRiDfvBmGCEhMJNe-v38wb4nj7Raw4VgyhSYWFUPYL3h8r2HPMt4jdKZSQeOVddMutVUwAux-Ay9FPYiGskCoinq_1MAZOF5V/s320/aDSC08554.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Later I went to Ferdous tailors to pick up my tuxedo! I was very excited to see the final product. I got there and they gave me piece by piece to try on, starting with the pants, then the jacket then the shirt and then the cummerbund. It all looked great. Fit perfectly. Was very impressed. Now I just need an occasion to wear it!<br /><br />At my evening data collection tonight at Banani bus stand I saw a foreigner buying a bus ticket! I never have before seen this. I’ve always been the only one, unless I’m dragging someone else on the bus with me. I kind of wanted to talk to him.<br /><br />After I met with Toma at Bella Italia, where we had great pizza (kind of like Federici’s in Freehold) and seafood pasta. Had been craving it for awhile. Then we went across the street to Andersen’s Ice Cream for a sundae. Her driver picked us up, and he dropped me off at Sat Rasta, from there I took a rickshaw to Farmgate. This was much faster than taking the #6 to Farmgate. The driver said I went through a “dangerous” place, but I feel like people would say that about half the places I go or do here. (pics: Toma having seafood pasta at Bella Italia, myeslf and a delicious ice cream sundae)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdhu50eBrC_JmWK9rNcNvn-rj-4OMggOPY-D4JMLBihNwEOu0kbo-JzY8mcp7j46ZKB3fz7Mg5KLbBsAI3hkKS1uXqsv6B8ZxG4rbHucmWixFibLBKVGQVrhzFPq9UE_JP-I7ImIR7fJ0/s1600-h/aDSC08574.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234673678223933634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdhu50eBrC_JmWK9rNcNvn-rj-4OMggOPY-D4JMLBihNwEOu0kbo-JzY8mcp7j46ZKB3fz7Mg5KLbBsAI3hkKS1uXqsv6B8ZxG4rbHucmWixFibLBKVGQVrhzFPq9UE_JP-I7ImIR7fJ0/s320/aDSC08574.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWFPTazrC5yepy7P44adkSaNfliEZlvRRfgYj3dNZhQQ8WWVsR3AxIHGtnOTGMUSjqha9EgR_quJn2DLaOPiWfpQyDKZe7Q8iszG-RVDedoxeDhlp8pGGXDlryDBjlaI-ZDv0thng0bxp/s1600-h/aDSC08580.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234673685803379522" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWFPTazrC5yepy7P44adkSaNfliEZlvRRfgYj3dNZhQQ8WWVsR3AxIHGtnOTGMUSjqha9EgR_quJn2DLaOPiWfpQyDKZe7Q8iszG-RVDedoxeDhlp8pGGXDlryDBjlaI-ZDv0thng0bxp/s320/aDSC08580.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />49th-7th in Dhaka 8/12</strong><br /><br />Worked on planning my India trip this morning. I’m throwing around different itineraries to see what best fits what I want to see. My friend Megan has been giving me advice on Kolkata, but for the rest I’m searching internet sites and books to see how much time I should spend in each spot. The train times I want never seem to exist, so I have to work within what is there.<br />I think I have a schedule I think I like, now that I’ve decided to take the train from Dhaka to Kolkata on the 7th. Emailed the conference organizers to affirm that I need to be there on the 12th, so I don’t show up for something unimportant. They confirmed that I really should be there.<br /><br />Went to Rampura bus stand to do a midday data collection. The ticket collectors there were the most interested about my work than any others before. They didn’t leave my side, except to sell a ticket or two on their infrequent buses, the entire hour. They asked lots of questions, and I had no issue entertaining them as long as I could still work. The road was easy to count as traffic moves so slow there.<br /><br />After this I took a bus down to Kamalapur Railway Station to wait for Auvi so we could buy our train tickets to Chittagong next week. I was also going to buy my train ticket to Kolkata. I had lunch at the station. After lunch, I headed to the Kolkata ticket counter. The ticket buying requires a passport and visa, and I got stuck behind a guy registering his whole family of 15 people. A long wait. I filled out the form meanwhile, and then just stood there. He at least provided me good conversation. Auvi showed up during this time, and after I finally got to buy my ticket to Kolkata, we headed to the window to buy our Chittagong ticket. It took less than a minute. I felt a bit bad that Auvi had come all the way down there. But he didn’t mind, nothing else to do he said….coming from a guy in the middle of exams!<br />We also talked about our itinerary too, and how I have a fantasy football draft that Sunday! He has a wedding that day too. We’ll try to arrange both. I’ll be brining my laptop for sure.<br />Buying the tickets to both these places made me more excited to go there. Especially India.<br /><br />I then rode two #6 buses from Kamalapur to Gulshan. I didn’t get off in between, and it took about 3.5 hours to do them. Both had lots of crowding and a few interesting people to talk to me. Conductors always talk to me after they see me stay on the bus between routes.<br /><br />At night I bought the plan ticket from Kolkata to Chennai in September. I will fly the budget airline SpiceJet.<br />Ayon called, and we chatted about our trip to Rangpur this weekend. He told me all about his past trip to Sylhet, sounded like a blast. Lastly, he told me he’ll be coming to Chittagong. Uh oh, we bought our tickets today though, he better go soon and get his.</div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-87176251633853078282008-08-08T11:33:00.014+06:002008-08-15T15:27:06.434+06:00Week 48: Fish drop, faluda, friendship, fire truck (say it 5 times fast)<strong>48th-1st in Dhaka 7/30</strong><br /><div><div><div><div><br />Not feeling too great today. Went to get breakfast and could only nibble on my food. Just no appetite.<br />Started a movie at home. Kind of worked on my data, doing some data pre-processing. Went out for lunch and had some soup and a desert called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falooda">faluda</a>, which is tasty and an array of various items: vermicelli, apples, raisins, pistachios, honey, sugar, and bananas. The wikipedia article calls it a drink, but here in Bangladesh its certainly a dessert and needs a spoon. Other sites call the version I ate Sheer-e-faluda<br /><br />I feel like I’ve been taking more CNGs and taxis recently. Mostly it’s late at night and I’m coming home from Gulshan, or I’m hanging out with someone who doesn’t really want to ride buses.<br /><br />To supplement the lack of text, here are some random things I’ve snapped photos of recently:<br />I found some Bangladeshi karaoke thing being sold at Rifles Square. (pic: "World's First Bangla Karaoke" on display at Rifles Square with a customer belting out a song in front of his friends as the Bengali words flash on the screen)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemKhLucs5faS6b_ovl0w3fjLJJPsCnwGHlHSyta9DhR6wPnhsJp9dtcTECd327Q7l5hnCREH8UblmFd5GsogkcbXsP30ogXP0MGdNFwihBnIQrbQf0qTKRYDbRNFDuqA8xp3YFTxrkR1A/s1600-h/aDSC08487.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemKhLucs5faS6b_ovl0w3fjLJJPsCnwGHlHSyta9DhR6wPnhsJp9dtcTECd327Q7l5hnCREH8UblmFd5GsogkcbXsP30ogXP0MGdNFwihBnIQrbQf0qTKRYDbRNFDuqA8xp3YFTxrkR1A/s320/aDSC08487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232046951959944930" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adolf Hitler’s “Mein Kampf” translated into Bengali. I had stopped to consider buying Stephen Hawking's <span style="font-style: italic;">A Brief History of Time</span>, which was not translated into Bengali (pic: Mein Kampf translated into Bengali being sold at Nilkhet Market)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Mg3ca6K30PLOcaUXr64tLz10ROpnL_K1_JzjU4IgMtNX7XMUDwGd0lnij0U_3IoPnYHAyH7Jug88veB0rTfz_vAqavPT47k6EgzyHJ7oSkxD7ZcoZIiMOfsJv9vAXei_hHpkTELXcS-V/s1600-h/ADSC08491.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232040452522972850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Mg3ca6K30PLOcaUXr64tLz10ROpnL_K1_JzjU4IgMtNX7XMUDwGd0lnij0U_3IoPnYHAyH7Jug88veB0rTfz_vAqavPT47k6EgzyHJ7oSkxD7ZcoZIiMOfsJv9vAXei_hHpkTELXcS-V/s320/ADSC08491.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Vin Diesel’s Triple X movie at a Bengali cinema, not sure if it’s dubbed or not. (pic: Triple X in theaters now...or as they called it, Triple Cross)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeGmXGPCV4BoUxgvs0OIf3rp8y1Y0unJI9IZDINUwajFB9Hn7GvlomhwVuQp4gGmGhi7TD3oSDSoBMdLMcNUsZAaMEgblEz-E-qNC-wsVMDXOGFwu1ebBXNJVoe_wMuuPrWvPIH2jYFU8/s1600-h/aDSC08441.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232042553178926386" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeGmXGPCV4BoUxgvs0OIf3rp8y1Y0unJI9IZDINUwajFB9Hn7GvlomhwVuQp4gGmGhi7TD3oSDSoBMdLMcNUsZAaMEgblEz-E-qNC-wsVMDXOGFwu1ebBXNJVoe_wMuuPrWvPIH2jYFU8/s320/aDSC08441.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A fire station with some ancient looking fire trucks. (pic: fire station in Dhaka)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4lCC4VBJJee_3ouE-st2kr95pAiPLm1ri65XcJVjcBmmhYp5dcnQP-oLD0fzILJhe4Z0lJqW56o_0JkJdcDdJCK7NeOk6dGn4Lp1rZILEW7DvLxLCPRU2At-u2n5PfSaZZ9VdJglKrXf/s1600-h/ADSC08429.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232042555124308978" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4lCC4VBJJee_3ouE-st2kr95pAiPLm1ri65XcJVjcBmmhYp5dcnQP-oLD0fzILJhe4Z0lJqW56o_0JkJdcDdJCK7NeOk6dGn4Lp1rZILEW7DvLxLCPRU2At-u2n5PfSaZZ9VdJglKrXf/s320/ADSC08429.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />People getting <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spondias_dulcis">Tahitian apples </a>(Bengali: amra) ready to sell for the day, they’re enjoyed with salts on top and are quite sour, but are refreshing in the heat. The centers have thick fibers that aren't eaten. They are very popular for selling to bus riders. (pics: peeling and cutting the Tahitian apples for the day, a bowl full of Tahitian apples ready for selling)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3N-1KfeUG0ZUSiNG8GW8VlTt5W8jJe3TjcS6C3AfdtYroDjDAbR4npoFCJfp1smOENvtc1byvIMB6YOIT6P2paJkT2mmpoag3ej14O05IUkPKwmYiA8k1lpjYmRweRjpfe9LM26d_ssP/s1600-h/aDSC08469.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232041203198396450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3N-1KfeUG0ZUSiNG8GW8VlTt5W8jJe3TjcS6C3AfdtYroDjDAbR4npoFCJfp1smOENvtc1byvIMB6YOIT6P2paJkT2mmpoag3ej14O05IUkPKwmYiA8k1lpjYmRweRjpfe9LM26d_ssP/s320/aDSC08469.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhraitqo1eZ1faP1kr5om4wY0PCeB-J0kWCfmG7AWXxmeucGFJ2ue-fJz4xLdsHmEMEArxKnG-gKLMsQEoUxb6vMvPGLyts8Rm5jAlQBxEhPlJLDFNYvuO0LCTHu0kpQwmjs1YqG5sPHcp/s1600-h/aDSC08470.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232041202469947026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhraitqo1eZ1faP1kr5om4wY0PCeB-J0kWCfmG7AWXxmeucGFJ2ue-fJz4xLdsHmEMEArxKnG-gKLMsQEoUxb6vMvPGLyts8Rm5jAlQBxEhPlJLDFNYvuO0LCTHu0kpQwmjs1YqG5sPHcp/s320/aDSC08470.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Speaking of fruits. I'm beginning to see the fruits that were out when I first arrived. Mangoes are being seen less and less, while pineapples have been out for awhile and pomelos are hitting stands, although small ones.<br /><br /><strong>48th-2nd in Dhaka 7/31<br /></strong><br />Work was good. I collected data at Kalabagan for the AM peak period. I then was able to get four buses done. It was a feeling of success. I’m blasting through this data collection, and will be glad to be done at the end. I’m still not taking long breaks on the buses, and it’s definitely showing in my efficiency. I could’ve done a 5th bus today if I had really felt up to it.<br /><br />I don’t put enough pictures of the traffic or buses up here. So here are a few shots I’ve taken recently under bad conditions. (pics: Mirpur Road at Science Laboratory during the early evening, rickshaws backed up at Science Laboratory in the early evening and also note the silly looking billboard in the top left which I chuckle at every time I pass by, Airport Road at Banani/Kakoli bus stands in the middle of the day)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvadERLxF35m_Dt5m1sambmfwUFGyjS58Nn1kmZ_Utalbs29Ra_7XFGbNocQpxhsDeFXdA32U-64HuJr0VWe6XIz7Dr30s5pEmo4DVLtmlDWlvAW4M1-Iv7m6TaPKxkDP5ACLLby-yu8q/s1600-h/aDSC08478.JPG"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAGqxJthIz5frqCD5VK-cKGzFgmqDNi20B9r-Aj-dOTbpdDcuhawK6aitlLMVESDvqVIP9OErO_wGaBEl7v2Ahl8zHfYJzO3OoEksHmOVdqsUrimbC8AGkIV9GPI8eZeaOF4bxHhOKHuV/s1600-h/aDSC08444.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232041200342570290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAGqxJthIz5frqCD5VK-cKGzFgmqDNi20B9r-Aj-dOTbpdDcuhawK6aitlLMVESDvqVIP9OErO_wGaBEl7v2Ahl8zHfYJzO3OoEksHmOVdqsUrimbC8AGkIV9GPI8eZeaOF4bxHhOKHuV/s320/aDSC08444.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ighexUo3Bw0N131PSL_KfexTtPmsj9KihnK06utHsgvfxe1oX2my6m1t9R0ziugfMoZtuGne5Jxtue3HTs1UrwpJZ29pWcVa1em_cixw7XKZOemCJoG86jXJa5cDtFz7PfEjsf8J8W_U/s1600-h/aDSC08443.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232042558753128114" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ighexUo3Bw0N131PSL_KfexTtPmsj9KihnK06utHsgvfxe1oX2my6m1t9R0ziugfMoZtuGne5Jxtue3HTs1UrwpJZ29pWcVa1em_cixw7XKZOemCJoG86jXJa5cDtFz7PfEjsf8J8W_U/s320/aDSC08443.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvadERLxF35m_Dt5m1sambmfwUFGyjS58Nn1kmZ_Utalbs29Ra_7XFGbNocQpxhsDeFXdA32U-64HuJr0VWe6XIz7Dr30s5pEmo4DVLtmlDWlvAW4M1-Iv7m6TaPKxkDP5ACLLby-yu8q/s1600-h/aDSC08478.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232041202728837058" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvadERLxF35m_Dt5m1sambmfwUFGyjS58Nn1kmZ_Utalbs29Ra_7XFGbNocQpxhsDeFXdA32U-64HuJr0VWe6XIz7Dr30s5pEmo4DVLtmlDWlvAW4M1-Iv7m6TaPKxkDP5ACLLby-yu8q/s320/aDSC08478.JPG" border="0" /> </a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here are some photos I’ve taken recently for stock footage I’ll need for future reports on this. (pics: alighting from a moving bus in a sharee cannot be easy, boarding a moving bus can leave you struggling for your balance not to fall out, a beggar begs for change at Gulshan-1's west side bus stand as a Winner bus pulls up behind him, typical ticket counter)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkpKbmzO7X1i8-wGsVFZZtdbGrFVSCRUP7bERgInUl6ZJWguChhTilUjfwRWB6-z_SzC7fEpvqOc8JzqTXlcDplH1WGm70M1JahVG5QV0FZkq8OUqpmgDIVVGaIk8-JMPLhj-H418Gqlm/s1600-h/aDSC07350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232043058098465138" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkpKbmzO7X1i8-wGsVFZZtdbGrFVSCRUP7bERgInUl6ZJWguChhTilUjfwRWB6-z_SzC7fEpvqOc8JzqTXlcDplH1WGm70M1JahVG5QV0FZkq8OUqpmgDIVVGaIk8-JMPLhj-H418Gqlm/s320/aDSC07350.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IQoAcftn8-0F2B1IJraIA2aNeUScecdefrsIRs5teWA9YCP01yWXfStnaYyBoMIGFUVWWOyPimCZC6WSW_z5ykCljMfVheu8n0itEjJvXzmEOB6mMoFesjnQs713ZQ3dTnuCGgsROnWZ/s1600-h/aDSC07371.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232042554797244242" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IQoAcftn8-0F2B1IJraIA2aNeUScecdefrsIRs5teWA9YCP01yWXfStnaYyBoMIGFUVWWOyPimCZC6WSW_z5ykCljMfVheu8n0itEjJvXzmEOB6mMoFesjnQs713ZQ3dTnuCGgsROnWZ/s320/aDSC07371.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0hLUTz4tkwNl-KpRGrdoJ1wJgxpqjmZFWyBQ5-YrVxjCn5eK0TrvLFsPJisY_YoMxtiMF4w8N56xSK1stQfTvGMRx-p-LKIS1rJAhMa9ZEpX1Vk3zgfcN0Yl1vE0x0Hz36SOrnNd-RVL/s1600-h/aDSC07366.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232042554861582082" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0hLUTz4tkwNl-KpRGrdoJ1wJgxpqjmZFWyBQ5-YrVxjCn5eK0TrvLFsPJisY_YoMxtiMF4w8N56xSK1stQfTvGMRx-p-LKIS1rJAhMa9ZEpX1Vk3zgfcN0Yl1vE0x0Hz36SOrnNd-RVL/s320/aDSC07366.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlX0xZGNCNK52IPfVC6znTD0MGKZDAWF6J5gqYaTPl9-5UfVAYyBl8MSzMZXmzcHMHD3V6FVukxs3K-UZar5alyA4N451jpdk2wLO29awsqbvMfZn1L0bdeEiqN9AlmaS5fcX7FMQevYX/s1600-h/aDSC07341.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232043057625984306" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlX0xZGNCNK52IPfVC6znTD0MGKZDAWF6J5gqYaTPl9-5UfVAYyBl8MSzMZXmzcHMHD3V6FVukxs3K-UZar5alyA4N451jpdk2wLO29awsqbvMfZn1L0bdeEiqN9AlmaS5fcX7FMQevYX/s320/aDSC07341.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Instead of doing a 5th bus, I went to a goodbye dinner for my friend Luke. I wish I could’ve hung out with him more, but I had so many vacations while he was here. We had sushi at a Japanese restaurant, my first time having sushi since being in Raleigh! Not even close to as good as Sushi Blues, but still tasty. After we went to the Bagha Club and toasted him off with a few beers.<br /><br /><strong>48th-3rd in Dhaka 8/1</strong><br /><br />I went over Ayon’s for the day. His mother served a great lunch to us. His sister and her husband were also there visiting. Her husband told me he will be in Chennai for the next three months, so I’ll be able to meet up with him when I go there for my conference. Later his aunts came by, to talk to their niece, so Ayon, her husband, and I were left hanging out in Ayon’s bedroom. I left after sharing tea with everyone.<br />I came home and finished watching a movie I’d started the other day and then went and got dinner.<br /><br />After coming home, the guys who live downstairs and invited me in. We chatted for awhile at their place, about random topics. I then mentioned to them that I’ll be selling my furniture, and that if they’d like to take a look, they are very welcome. So they came up, and I showed them my place. They were interested in the TV, DVD player, fridge, and kitchen set. They’ll be living here, the five of them in one flat as big as mine, for 4 more years so buying this stuff is quite a good investment for them.<br /><br /><strong>48th-4th in Dhaka 8/2<br /></strong><br />I posted my blog, and backed up my photos. The 4 GB flash drive I’d bought for that purpose is now full! Meaning I’ve taken that many photos in just this year! Incredible.<br /><br />Moweena returned today. I was wondering if she had gone back to her village for good. She could easily do that and I’d never ever know. But after a week of being gone, she came today and cooked and cleaned.<br /><br />For lunch I visited Jen and Ben. They leave this week, their last in Bangladesh. It’s amazing that within my time here, they came and will leave. They are great friends, and I’ll miss having them here. We’ve had many great times together. Today they had offered to share macaroni and cheese with me. They do a great job cooking up amazing meals. When I got there, Ben was purchasing tickets online, and we discussed the nuances of purchasing online fares. We chatted a lot over cooking and then eating. The afternoon finished with Ben telling me an incredible story. I had mentioned how my friend Peyton had recently climbed El Capitan again at Yosemite (see Saket's posts on it <a href="http://www.saketvora.com/2008/06/30/peyton-on-el-capitan/">1</a> <a href="http://www.saketvora.com/2008/07/02/peytons-1st-el-capitan-climb-finished/">2</a>), so Ben jumped into an epic tale about his climb up El Capitan and how he funded his way there. It took over an hour to tell, but it was the best story I’ve heard in awhile. Knowing Jen has heard it scores of times, I wonder what her version would sound like.<br /><br />I went to buy fish this afternoon. Stopped by my favorite supermarket and chose a fish from their fish department. They asked if they should cut it up, and I said sure, why not. So I watched him slice it, and another employee held open a bag to put the pieces in. the first employee grabbed this first piece, the fish’s head, and dropped it into the bag. And it went straight through! A hole opened up, or was already there, not sure, but the fish head fell right to the ground. SPLAT, BOUNCE! It was hilarious, I started cracking up, I couldn’t stop. They started laughing too. We all thought it was the funniest thing all day. Glad great moments like this happen.<br /><br /><strong>48th-5th in Dhaka 8/3<br /></strong><br />Rode three buses today. Had limited time as I couldn’t work into the evening as I was meeting up with my friends at Pizza Hut. Although, I’m starting to get very tired of riding the buses. It is draining, especially these local buses, but I’m trying to get all this data collected before I leave. And I feel I’m having problems breathing these days, maybe it is because of all the fumes I inhale.<br /><br />For dinner, a bunch of us met at Pizza Hut to celebrate today’s holiday: <a href="http://www.friendshipday.org/friendship-day-history.html">World Friendship Day</a>. These past few days I’ve signs for dances and celebrations all over town. Places that people like to spend time at were all packed with people hanging out with friends. It was crazy to see the passion with which the holiday is celebrated.<br />So my friends and I had pizza. We all showed up late as the roads were jammed, maybe in part due to the holiday. We were there for two hours. They brought us the wrong size pizzas, too large. We would have to pay for it, and yet not be able to eat it all. Well we all braved it, and put pizza down our throats like we’d never done before. I felt sick by the end. (pics: Saquib/Ayon/myself at Pizza Hut for World Friendship Day even though I'm the only one looking, Farhan/Nipu laughing at Pizza Hut, Opu appears to have been a victim of someone's cruel "untwist the cap of the pepper just enough so that the next person has it spill out all over their food" trick, Opu/Faisal/myself/Ayon/Nipu posing in front of Pizza Hut after dinner)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zkzqCM8K_lAaTAsUIwEvSyWAl757psTF4x8Jf_pqDFfKSUSEbddLSJ0R6mM8la5c3WJZZMSew8BCKUIR8Nom9eKEE7ZWAK97RYMHZA_z4MVNpSbBrjlSHVwkcQUPvqNdqCJP_R9ZozgT/s1600-h/aDSC08494.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zkzqCM8K_lAaTAsUIwEvSyWAl757psTF4x8Jf_pqDFfKSUSEbddLSJ0R6mM8la5c3WJZZMSew8BCKUIR8Nom9eKEE7ZWAK97RYMHZA_z4MVNpSbBrjlSHVwkcQUPvqNdqCJP_R9ZozgT/s320/aDSC08494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232049207401872946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaOWl_pn65mREtwFdYVQCTanqq2SHbFR9voW2yyEbFzz9LSbuJ2e5AUn5h8GXOsBoQsTidOOzfGTnUX8u1zfvitfWmxlQpCZ7y5t-OqASE3apQJUXpvr1KZC5Gp-8Y9gP-MHujvRgJJf5/s1600-h/aDSC08507.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaOWl_pn65mREtwFdYVQCTanqq2SHbFR9voW2yyEbFzz9LSbuJ2e5AUn5h8GXOsBoQsTidOOzfGTnUX8u1zfvitfWmxlQpCZ7y5t-OqASE3apQJUXpvr1KZC5Gp-8Y9gP-MHujvRgJJf5/s320/aDSC08507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232049201998044354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdE4gqqg6dIvT0dFhuSf6NsLncED4vfSoqiINS1FNKky1VgMEfeFE42Q3-pcBY-ckBliVnDUlElViKc7PzZZCXfBKeYiuvxtvfBwVTFoSdKgm1rfcy9c7G7bWKiwfpuow_0Hy5vn0KwH-a/s1600-h/aDSC08503.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdE4gqqg6dIvT0dFhuSf6NsLncED4vfSoqiINS1FNKky1VgMEfeFE42Q3-pcBY-ckBliVnDUlElViKc7PzZZCXfBKeYiuvxtvfBwVTFoSdKgm1rfcy9c7G7bWKiwfpuow_0Hy5vn0KwH-a/s320/aDSC08503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232049209402194722" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznNP-fxUVU2Bppn-mjfruEIki2ECg4Hrxb5rps-XYaP7Ysggg5AIM81OJsDM7RkrgXXerxft6cl-HT1I69JM4jaHT0eHp0Jc-0lrt7EiXyZI0Nya4-HPGs1pvk6IYQ2UJvNlFk0TUvUd8/s1600-h/aDSC08517.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232040464662019538" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznNP-fxUVU2Bppn-mjfruEIki2ECg4Hrxb5rps-XYaP7Ysggg5AIM81OJsDM7RkrgXXerxft6cl-HT1I69JM4jaHT0eHp0Jc-0lrt7EiXyZI0Nya4-HPGs1pvk6IYQ2UJvNlFk0TUvUd8/s320/aDSC08517.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It was a nice time with the guys. With all of our schedules, these times are too spaced out.<br /><br /><strong>48th-6th in Dhaka 8/4</strong><br /><br />I did a morning data collection in Banani, then did two #3 bus routes. They took longer than I thought they would. Jams seem to be bigger these days than ever before. It rained at points today, and it made being on a bus pretty bad, as everyone closes the windows on an already hot bus. When it rained during the morning data collection, I was under a shelter, and everyone came under when it rained, packing it, and making it hard to see the buses going by. I was squished.<br /><br />I picked up my visa from the Vietnam embassy. The guard said I was a very lucky man to be receiving a second visa. I felt so too. I was actually worried they’d deny me just because it was my second. But now it’s nicely in my passport, and despite the double fee, I’ll be able to go to Vietnam in October.<br /><br />Also went by the tailor who is making my tuxedo. They had it ready to be tried on, although not close to finished. Just the structure is there so they can see how it looks on me before finishing it up. It was weird to put on pants that didn’t even have a waistband yet, just a cloth strip. And a jacket with pieces of fabric sticking out everywhere. But i really liked it. It fit very well, and the shape was looking sharp. I’ll be excited to see the finished product, and then sport it in the US.<br /><br />When I came home, there was a gigantic spider in my room. I was not going to bed with it by my bed. I had to kill it, I usually don’t enjoy killing bugs, but it was the biggest spider I’d seen, maybe ever. At least in the presence of my bed. I felt bad.<br /><br /><strong>48th-7th in Dhaka 8/5</strong><br /><br />Today is 11 months.<br /><br />I did a data collection at Kalabagan. Towards the end, a young guy came up to me and started talking to me. He asked if I had remembered him, he’s a guy who saw me last week at a nearby bus stop and tried to chat but it was dark out and I was having problems working, so didn’t talk then. Well now, midday, we talked. He was a real neat guy doing a lot of work in media in Bangladesh, but still a college student (in his third university, having a bit of grade issues.) I ended spending the afternoon with him. We walked back to his university, hung out where the students grab snacks, and chatted. One of his friends came by, a guy who’s from Kathmandu, so we were able to chat about my recent trip there, plus his thoughts on his country’s future now that it’s a democracy. It was a great afternoon. We headed over to Goethhe Institute, also known as the German Cultural Center, where they like to hang out. I’d heard the name before, but never had been. Well its being renovated right now, so none of the food items were available, which are supposed to be amazing. I stayed a bit before going to do another data collection.<br /><br />After the data collection I met up with my friend Toma at a café nearby to the data collection. We chilled there for awhile, had dinner, then chilled at Dhanmondi Lake for awhile. I was exhausted from the day though, and was real glad to be home when I finally got there. </div></div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-26825499167882632062008-08-02T09:24:00.008+06:002008-08-02T11:46:29.056+06:00Week 47: If only visas were sold at places like Bashundara City<strong>47th-1st in Dhaka 7/23</strong><br /><div><br />Saw workers chip sealing parts of the roads today. The process was intense. Giant barrels over burning fires to heat the asphalt cement! The workers face some intense hot conditions! (pic: workers chip sealing a part of Sat Masjid Road by heating the asphalt cement over giant fires)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-WaecZm5PTM_LK6MWznyrJ7ClrSD0FRIRDJpNHL4fwwAh_Cf9NgwJEuWzDdtxMK9hxBkr7keFuznCrMnSGCaXReS9SgC9K1VmvlfgziPB7XobOFT1J_OoPrTRwUr7Z1cVetLCxPYu1LB/s1600-h/aDSC08423.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229785117638046706" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-WaecZm5PTM_LK6MWznyrJ7ClrSD0FRIRDJpNHL4fwwAh_Cf9NgwJEuWzDdtxMK9hxBkr7keFuznCrMnSGCaXReS9SgC9K1VmvlfgziPB7XobOFT1J_OoPrTRwUr7Z1cVetLCxPYu1LB/s320/aDSC08423.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Today I went to BUET to work, but found out the hard way that all the computer labs I use were restricted to only students registering for courses. In fact the computer labs are all reserved for registering students for the next 4 days! When I went by one time, it was empty, and still they wouldn’t let me in.<br />To kill the many hours until my evening meeting with Dr. Rahman, Shegufta and I went out and took the measurements of three buses that start nearby to BUET in Azimpur. She was bothered by the heat and the sun, but she was still a great sport and stuck with me the whole way.<br />I finally was told to go to a computer lab I’d never been in before, and had to ask the moderator there how to log in, as it’s a whole other system from the other labs I use (each lab seems to require its own log ins, no central network.) They just let me log in as an administrator after I complained saying I need to do some work today! (pics: myself in front of one of the buses I ride, my assistant Shegufta helping me collect data)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6-vSDMHEsP0nBlwplWgjcoeb61RvVfNqDHHYyB4gVnbt10H1jWZuBy_OHqfjQvoXzSkywTP-LFA-nNpTHCL5lTBKzJxJZglVNUZwXu7vXLksex9mdubjcsM_cnkJ2E3QEZyZIzMq1xSr/s1600-h/aDSC08432.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229785127215488850" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6-vSDMHEsP0nBlwplWgjcoeb61RvVfNqDHHYyB4gVnbt10H1jWZuBy_OHqfjQvoXzSkywTP-LFA-nNpTHCL5lTBKzJxJZglVNUZwXu7vXLksex9mdubjcsM_cnkJ2E3QEZyZIzMq1xSr/s320/aDSC08432.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMfqSw3FBNblpPWZcFgXID_Obv59BzUqDSa5_J5HcmTCrq0pi64chLAYVoJ7Go7qxZOV7872Lvb-PTrFeEVpdk8LNzpFBDT8-g_Uo5S3Wm8SCv7U8gKJsqVLHKWysVRFX2mmv4mUqn7EG/s1600-h/aDSC08431.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229785130005584514" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMfqSw3FBNblpPWZcFgXID_Obv59BzUqDSa5_J5HcmTCrq0pi64chLAYVoJ7Go7qxZOV7872Lvb-PTrFeEVpdk8LNzpFBDT8-g_Uo5S3Wm8SCv7U8gKJsqVLHKWysVRFX2mmv4mUqn7EG/s320/aDSC08431.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Met with Dr. Rahman today about my paper. He had a few comments that I should make sure I clean up for the final submission. It was good to hear that he thought the paper was looking good, and that I should be proud to have it at the conference.<br /><br />On the street today I found bite-size fuchka! This really excited me for some reason.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuiy_0VlGIZox9SrYdk6sFhW3zTbdlXiAhi4YPsGqo_5xkaEU14IVdLU_CHpEUaZeSwTe1DvOuNE6BgvhCIdlsH4N5lngjf_V1Te-J0X3fhc1hYSi0_gwp5U0l1Gi8fxPLkyMIV7ooWzH/s1600-h/aDSC08433.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229784472980316770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuiy_0VlGIZox9SrYdk6sFhW3zTbdlXiAhi4YPsGqo_5xkaEU14IVdLU_CHpEUaZeSwTe1DvOuNE6BgvhCIdlsH4N5lngjf_V1Te-J0X3fhc1hYSi0_gwp5U0l1Gi8fxPLkyMIV7ooWzH/s320/aDSC08433.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pic: bite size fuchka)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I sent an email to all the new Fulbrights letting them know I’m selling my furniture, and also to let them know about my flat in case they are interested in moving in.<br /><br />Tonight my store owner and the guy who fed me jackfruit came by my place. The jackfruit guy wanted to check out my fridge. He also looked at my DVD player and my ceiling fan. He was very insulted that I wouldn’t just give them to him at whatever price he named. He complained that he’s a poor man and can’t afford so much, and I told him my prices stand as I like, and I’m not going to lose tons of money just because he wants to tell me he’s poor. He doesn’t have to own a DVD player. My store owner also guilt tripped me to try and give him my bed. Although I’m supposed to be getting 75% back for it from the store I bought it at, the store owner told me give it to him because he’s a friend and actually knows me. The cost of this friendship, 50% less for the bed! I wasn’t falling for these tricks.<br /><br /><strong>47th-2nd in Dhaka 7/24</strong><br /><br />Recently I’ve also been plowing through the Southeast Asia guide book. That trip is one I’m very much less ready for, and don’t even know what I want to see and do. But the book is extremely helpful for helping me pick my highlights and my modes of transport.<br /><br />Today was my first time collecting data on buses for a long time, and for my return I did a hard day of four local buses! By the end I didn’t want to be on them at all anymore! I rode the #13 route four times in a row, breaking for two tea breaks and a lunch break in between, none of which were very long. The buses all got very crowded, the last one the most because it was during the post-rush hour period. But it felt very good to accomplish so much. So many people talked to me today, and I realized if it wasn’t for these strangers, I might go all day without talking to someone.<br /><br />No real highlights from the day’s work. One man stayed to talk to me after the route because he was so excited to meet a foreigner. I also had my photo snapped, and I walked up and asked him to see it, and his friends teased him.<br /><br /><strong>47th-3rd in Dhaka 7/25</strong><br /><br />I visited Bashundara City with Santa for some lunch and shopping. The place was very empty. We had Taco Bell, which was the best Mexican food I’ve had in Bangladesh. Please take note that this is not a real Taco Bell, they just stole the name, menu, and pictures. They gave plenty of cheese and sour cream, and even gave it attractive displays for only being in a mall’s fast food court. Santa also liked it, it being her first time eating it. (pics: the best taco I've had in Bangladesh at the Taco Bell in Bashundara City, Santa eating her first ever Mexican food)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCkKwv0nj0lvpIJ2yOjH4O5VM8RK9jOfrzyldTTdJtvnrM9ZS4BhyoXPlX4XZsIYugwoQ4EnS1CCFq0NucPDj1ML8v6IvkGxdg0hjYPKWsEWb2_zbEPTQJmGGnJ7gkM9yhnU7S6r7ejhd/s1600-h/aDSC08459.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229784480510854162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCkKwv0nj0lvpIJ2yOjH4O5VM8RK9jOfrzyldTTdJtvnrM9ZS4BhyoXPlX4XZsIYugwoQ4EnS1CCFq0NucPDj1ML8v6IvkGxdg0hjYPKWsEWb2_zbEPTQJmGGnJ7gkM9yhnU7S6r7ejhd/s320/aDSC08459.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjja6rzRWMT-fl_kReclhjVqUlC1kBS3YUeAsyPBSchcp3TbNQnvNGa5SLKszbljIdSCnrvTm3ZteOL49m8DJoKxyW1i32LdjS1j8aeKM8oofcGwuz_FQDnDvMtGDVZtDRBDYGaBN2et0Bv/s1600-h/aDSC08460.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229784483574775922" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjja6rzRWMT-fl_kReclhjVqUlC1kBS3YUeAsyPBSchcp3TbNQnvNGa5SLKszbljIdSCnrvTm3ZteOL49m8DJoKxyW1i32LdjS1j8aeKM8oofcGwuz_FQDnDvMtGDVZtDRBDYGaBN2et0Bv/s320/aDSC08460.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We shopped at Bashundara for awhile looking at shoes. I ended up buying two new pairs, and even bargaining one down immensely. The other was from a fixed price shop with low prices. She bought two pairs of sandals. (pics: shopping at Bashundara City, buying shoes)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHScrErWzVzjgL9ciKG3w51V9dws9x6Qq801_7gYti0F7yjkdqX7K0gBzfTae4mYw6CFGjOpUIFBe4NKJcAqL6EZ_NTI-LjnqnPFLdjNId4ZTzjynJm2wCA-XaL24RzNyiNKCr6KZyJZCC/s1600-h/aDSC08464.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229784488474120786" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHScrErWzVzjgL9ciKG3w51V9dws9x6Qq801_7gYti0F7yjkdqX7K0gBzfTae4mYw6CFGjOpUIFBe4NKJcAqL6EZ_NTI-LjnqnPFLdjNId4ZTzjynJm2wCA-XaL24RzNyiNKCr6KZyJZCC/s320/aDSC08464.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVUCZB-XE2wQ-wllDTJsgNwhKeCh8iL4nop9pJGGmx4_mX1zi5JyJZJzFZ-h1u7aRwmVU-34fxBi_67i8g_ooSlj6l2umni-_YzM_jp-HCov-Zq-Q9o79sgmngMUPXzzg3yDd-CDk6ZOL/s1600-h/aDSC08461.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229784486374166226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVUCZB-XE2wQ-wllDTJsgNwhKeCh8iL4nop9pJGGmx4_mX1zi5JyJZJzFZ-h1u7aRwmVU-34fxBi_67i8g_ooSlj6l2umni-_YzM_jp-HCov-Zq-Q9o79sgmngMUPXzzg3yDd-CDk6ZOL/s320/aDSC08461.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Remembering the clothing under my bed, seeing the cockroaches in my boots a few weeks ago, and always seeing cockroaches scurrying for the safety to the nether regions of my bed, I decided it was time to check out what was under there. I looked through my things and checked for new cockroach civilizations. Well I pulled out a few bags of clothes, and although there was some cockroach poop here and there, nothing look infested. Then I came to the boxes of shoes. Well it seems cockroaches have their preferences when it comes to inhabiting things. One of the pairs of shoes I’d bought months ago had many cockroaches living inside. They were pretty good at finding the shoe, it was pretty buried in the stack and piles of things. After dumping them out, killing some, and sweeping the poop and eggs into the garbage, I put all the clean good stuff in my suitcase to stay safe from cockroaches (and the mold which seems to be getting everything.)<br /><br /><strong>47th-4th in Dhaka 7/26</strong><br /><br />This morning I spent time trying to organize my trip to India. Choosing between airlines and trains, and when to actually take these between city trips. In my searching around at flights, I stumbled on that Air India Express has a flight form Dhaka to Bangkok, and its cheaper than what I bought on Best Air last week, although I’d have to quickly switch planes in Kolkata. $60 cheaper is a lot of money though.<br /><br />Went to Bashundara City to meet with a girl who had contacted me through email and had wanted to know more about my work. She had found my blog from NC State Engineering’s main page, and contacted me to learn more about what I was doing here. She graduated from BUET earlier this year, and has since been working for an engineering design firm, but is thinking of switching careers to transportation from structures. We had a good conversation ranging from my work, transportation issues in Dhaka, traffic management ideas around the world, and the application process of American graduate schools.<br /><br />After I went to New Market to get the last of clothing ordered. I bought the fabric for a camel sport coat, and three more shirts, two with French cuffs for the cuff links I just had ordered to be made. Will have all this finished in a few weeks. While leaving, I found a snack called pakora, which was fried balls of spinach. Was delicious and had gathered a huge crowd who were getting it while it was hot!<br /><br />Tonight my mom called me to tell me that they had to put my cat Archie down this morning. Over the past week his health had deteriorated, and today it reached a point that was causing him immense pain. They made the choice to put him down. I cried when mom told me. Archie was only two years old, and very sweet, very friendly.<br />My boua came after mom called. She was telling me she was going back to her village for the week. Her sister is sick. She saw I was crying. Her advice to me, “Don’t cry. Pray to Allah and ask for good healthy and safety. He will provide. Don’t cry.” It was very sweet of her.<br /><br /><strong>47th-5th in Dhaka 7/27</strong><br /><br />Today might have been my most successful day of bus riding. Although a new record for number of buses was not set, I rode a bus four times straight, with only a short break for a lunch and a quick hop off for a tea and an ice cream later. I rode the same bus all day long, so I was with the same group of employees for all four routes. Essentially, I got to see how life is like for them, as I was only taking the breaks they took. Well, they stayed on the bus except for the lunch break.<br />On one of the routes, I struck up a conversation with one of the workers. He told me about their work schedule, apparently it is a 24 hour work day, and they work alternating days. They have a breakfast, lunch, and dinner break, and then a four hour nap break from midnight to 4am when the buses don’t run. Otherwise, it is continuous work, at least 17 hours of actual work! Every other day.<br />The day was tiring, but I only dozed off shortly on the second bus ride. Was fine for the third and fourth. The guys were helpful, not annoying, and didn’t bother me when I was working. The routes were long. This is the most bus riding I’ve done in a period of time. In 9.5 hours I rode a bus for 8.5 hours. Rear end was sore at the end.<br /><br />Apparently there was an <a href="http://english.peopledaily.com.cn/90001/90777/90851/6459995.html">earthquake last night</a>. I can’t lie, I didn’t even know about it until I read about it in the news tonight at home on the internet. Apparently it was bad enough it shook people out of bed. I was to find out later that even some of my friends had felt it. I slept right through it I guess. I am also the boy who when I was younger slept through the smoke alarms in my house. However, I would still call myself a light sleeper, as I wake up several times every night.<br /><br /><strong>47th-6th in Dhaka 7/28</strong><br /><br />I went to Gulshan today to pick up my visa from the Vietnam Embassy, but to also do work at the bus stops on Airport Road near Banani.<br />The working went fine. I found a good spot for observing where I could sit. I had to develop a new system for counting, as there were many buses passing by. In fact it was 350 per hour I’d found out! I resorted to only recording arrival and departure times for the buses on my research list, and simply counting the other buses as non-crowded or crowded, without recording their names. It worked out well, and I enjoyed it a lot. Glad to have a system for these busier stops established now. I collected at Kakoli in the AM peak period, and at Kakoli and Banani during the midday period. I meant to collect at night, but after the issue with my visa, see below, I decided to postpone for a day I wasn’t so frustrated.<br /><br />In the morning I went with Farabi to Ferdous tailors, where he got a tuxedo made a while back. He was there to help me out, let me know what he chose, and to maybe ask about why the price was so much higher for me than him. It appears that prices had just gone up. They are one of the most renowned tailors in town, and they know people will pay for their work. But it wasn’t too high compared to other places I’d looked into, so I went ahead. We chose the fabric for the shirt and the tuxedo. I chose which details I wanted, declined a bowtie because they would only make it pre-tied, and I want to have one where I can tie it myself. But did get a cumberbund. I get to see the sample within the week. It’ll be nice to have my own tailored tuxedo. I’ll never have to pay expensive rental fees again, and never have to use a tuxedo that hundreds of other guys have worn before me. I even think the price to get this made is equal if not less than just one tuxedo rental in the US!<br /><br />In the afternoon, Farabi was with me, and he came with me to the Vietnam Embassy to pick up my visa. I remember telling him beforehand, “I hope nothing is wrong, and I can just get it and go.” I think I say this little thought to myself every time I pick up something, from clothes to visas.<br />Well I got the visa after submitting my receipt, the guard brought it down from the Vietnamese Embassy (apartment) and I checked it out. It looked great, wait, no, the dates are wrong. They gave me all of September until October 1, but I’m traveling in October! Uh oh! I point out the mistake to the guard, and he looks at me and says this is what I receive. The only thing he would do for me is give me the phone number I can call to complain.<br />I called the number, and a nice woman picked it up, and I started describing my problem. She listened, and asked me to tell her again. After repeating, she asked who I was looking for. I said who is this? She told me it wasn’t an embassy, it was a home number.<br />I told the unhelping guard he’d given me the wrong number. He looked at the paper, and realized he’d written an “8” instead of a “4” somewhere in the number (despite my anger for wasting my time, I can’t blame him because a Bengali “4” looks like an English “8” and I’m sure that was the mistake he made in his head.)<br />Called the number, the ambassador himself picked up. I described the problem, and told him I was still downstairs. He told me I had asked for those dates, and that’s what he gave me. Said they even sent the application to Hanoi to verify everything. He then sent down my application to show to me that there had been confusion over what I wanted. I could tell why, because over the “10” I had written for October, a giant “9” was scribbled over it. I didn’t remember doing that, and can’t imagine why I would. I told the guard, who told me to call the number again, and explained it to the ambassador. I told him I didn’t do that, but he insisted I did…and I realized that no matter what I said, whether they did it or not, I was stuck. The “no I didn’t” “yes you did” would go on until I angered him. So instead I asked him what I had to do to get the dates I’d wanted, how we could change it. He said the only way was to buy a whole new visa, and re-apply with a new application. Luckily I didn’t have to submit all my bank statements and photos again.<br />During this whole time, Farabi was fighting with the guard about the application, fighting for me, saying this isn’t fair, you can’t just give an incorrect visa time and again just so you get more money.<br />I put in a new application. After waiting and waiting for the ambassador to get out of a meeting, the guard finally brought the application up. And came back down to collect my new visa fee, an additional Tk3700.<br /><br />Here is how I broke down the situation, and why I did what I did. I had 3 choices.<br />Refuse to get a new visa and pay an additional visa fee. This means I would never travel to Vietnam as I would not be able to make it to Vietnam before the visa ended on October 1. I’d be out my first Tk3700. It’d be paying that much money to NOT travel there, seems pretty silly. Plus, Amy, my travel partner, already successful got her visa, and I couldn’t put her out like that.<br />Get very angry on the phone and fight with the ambassador about who really wrote the 9 over my 10. This would put me in bad favor, and he’d likely just say “don’t call again” and I’d never get a new visa, and I’d still be out my first Tk3700. And still put Amy in a bad situation.<br />I could just accept it and put in a new application and pay the additional Tk3700. At least I’d still get to go to Vietnam (pending approval of course)<br />Another way to reason it out was: pay Tk3700 to not go to Vietnam, or pay tk7400 to still get to go. This stuff happens, whether at my own fault or someone else’s. I’m not the only person ever to have these kinds of problems, so I’m just dealing with it. If you want to read about <a href="http://bideshichronicles.blogspot.com/">worse problems</a>, my friends Jen and Ben have spent tons of money and lots of time trying to extend their visas to stay in Bangladesh.<br /><br /><strong>47th-7th in Dhaka 7/29</strong><br /><br />I skyped with Sandee in the morning. Been a bit since I talked to her, and we had plenty to talk about.<br /><br />Our area is without water today. They said with the heat we are having, the water lines are dry since everyone has used all the water up.<br /><br />I met with Dr. Rahman, and we went over some graphs that I had produced recently. He provided comments, and we discussed what the results are saying. Before and after this I did curbside data collections at Kalabagan.<br /><br />I also dropped by Aziz Super Market midday, and looked at the selection of Bengali t-shirts. Some have long poems on them, but others have short sayings, and I wanted to pick some up before I leave. This proved to be easier said than done. There was so many choices, and I couldn’t choose. I’ll have to come back, I only bought one today.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-44085401134706439842008-07-24T09:03:00.012+06:002008-07-24T10:52:07.729+06:00Week 46: The jackfruit is stuck in my throat!<p><strong>46th-1st in Dhaka 7/16<br /></strong><br />Today I got back together with Shegufta to work at BUET. She brought the data she had worked on while I was gone, but the BUET computers wouldn’t show it, so she’ll have to bring it next time we meet. While she worked on another set of data sheets, I worked on tweaking my results to make them more usable for me, something I noticed was a problem when writing the paper. I also finished up some visual basic code.<br /><br />In the evening I headed across town to Naira’s home. As she typically criticizes me for arriving on American time (which is the time that is specified) instead of South Asian time (late), I planned to arrive about a half hour late. Well due to traffic, this grew to one hour. When I got there, she asked me if I’d adopted Bangladeshi time, I said yes. She was pleased but told me tonight they were working on American time, and that tea had already been going for an hour. They had guests from the US, and food had already been eaten. Oops.<br />I stayed after the guests left, talking with her and her parents, and later her brother and her cousin (both home from Canada.)<br /><br />Passing through Farmgate on the way home tonight I bought a new wallet. It’s flimsy, but holds money, and will be good for the rest of my stay. Made nearby in Hazaribagh!</p><p><strong>46th-2nd in Dhaka 7/17<br /></strong><br />Collected data at Shahbag for the AM peak period, and then the midday period. In between I went to Mohammedpur, where a lot of my buses start, to collect dimensions on their aisles and doors, and to count seats. I was met by strange expressions every time I asked a bus operator if I could go on the bus and measure things. The last bus I did this for, I ended up talking in the bus with the bus company’s employees about my work and about the bus system in general.<br /><br />In the evening I went to see a folk play at Dhaka University. My friend Ishita was in the leading role, and she had invited all of us (her family including Ayon, Farhan, Saquib) to see it. The name of the play was Mohua and was based on a Bengali folk tale. Playing the leading role of Mohua, Ishita did an incredible job. The play itself I only understood about 10% of what was said. It was performed in a village dialect, and I had a hard time separating what they were saying. However the acting, just like the last performance I saw from this troupe, her university’s drama club, was what made the show for me. I was able to understand generally what was going on. The characters expressions were what blew me away. The whole play had an eerie mood to it, and the eyes and faces of the performers were full of intensity and had a possessed look, even scaring me at points. The square stage was in the middle of the room, and the crowd surrounded it on all four sides. The play took place on and around the stage, the whole time with music being played in the background. The audience was very engaged, and the play took place so that the characters used all parts of the stage. Sometimes you were behind the action, sometimes right in front. It was an incredible show. (pics: although blurry the action on the center stage was from all directions and very intense, Ishita on the right acting with her male counterpart in Mohua)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUDaac8UqNdMXtq5yMHKzkjeLHFlzoddMxgsNjKa8LJLf5imYb1ffTb5eDq6kTmo2J4OjatgzXO3ev6jcuuAIgRPs8ZYqUjh7BcVZlAAkddCMImuU8_VJfcQyoVwR-nFuM5Bmy37GGXSw/s1600-h/aDSC08408.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429145613434450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUDaac8UqNdMXtq5yMHKzkjeLHFlzoddMxgsNjKa8LJLf5imYb1ffTb5eDq6kTmo2J4OjatgzXO3ev6jcuuAIgRPs8ZYqUjh7BcVZlAAkddCMImuU8_VJfcQyoVwR-nFuM5Bmy37GGXSw/s320/aDSC08408.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcubSNJ7zDjXQR4iyNJaMINE3UdUiPNHsCMiYttGyGWiPzLzOolJOwkXGQjjGCJ47HN0y8CO3386f_zzLvtDkdljjqexOp8tnGfdIrzWDgTj1aNb4PEAMjyRLSLzLQmoIyG9KOEChaKolF/s1600-h/aDSC08402.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429137523970962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcubSNJ7zDjXQR4iyNJaMINE3UdUiPNHsCMiYttGyGWiPzLzOolJOwkXGQjjGCJ47HN0y8CO3386f_zzLvtDkdljjqexOp8tnGfdIrzWDgTj1aNb4PEAMjyRLSLzLQmoIyG9KOEChaKolF/s320/aDSC08402.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><div><strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />46th-3rd in Dhaka 7/18</strong><br /><br />Enjoying a day at home. Relaxing, writing in my journal, and posting pictures on facebook. Also starting to do some more serious thinking about my next trip to India in September.<br /><br />In the evening I headed down to New Market. I stopped by my tailor and dropped off my suit jacket which I thought was not fitting the right way. I also picked up the beach shirts that Ben and I had tailored when he was here. They look great. My buttons were on the wrong way, so after I have him turn them around, it’ll be finished.<br />I then went to the jewelry area of New Market looking for someone who can turn the pearls I bought when Ben was here into cuff links. After some searching found a stall that said they could do it. Together we drafted a design, and worked out a price. They’ll have it ready in ten days.<br /><br />Tonight I brought my India guide book to dinner at a restaurant. On the way back I stopped at the store in front of my house for some chatting, like I usually do. Hamid, the shopboy, asked what was in my bag, why I would bring the bag to dinner. I showed him that I’d brought the book. Thus started a half hour session of Hamid, his uncle, and his dad poring over the book’s pictures. The two adults were fighting over what some of the things in the pictures were. They were avidly searching for a picture of the Taj Mahal amongst all the photos, but they couldn’t find one, which was saddening for them. They sounded out the English words, and I explained the ones they didn’t know, for all the photo captions. I promised I’d bring the Bangladesh guidebook tomorrow.<br />Found out tonight that Hamid can’t speak English. I told him if he’s able to speak a few English sentences to me, I’ll give him the US dollar he’s been nagging me for. He then quickly blurted out “I am” “My name is” but didn’t actually complete those phrases. I then asked him “How old are you?” and he answered “I am fine” then I asked again in Bengali and asked him to say the English word for his name. After 10 seconds he quietly whispered “fourteen.” (pics: Hamid the boy who works at the shop in front of my house and I spend a lot of time talking to; how I almost always first see Hamid, eagerly motioning me to come over to him to talk)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ccXTRyeND6fXXwmScO0a9Yvgg3ijSFB8I-KNV5VV0WjDiN2II9bJy4lqzbyepKmA7zuO-TKsUGuvT0LrFYIG3SfkvNuQqBcO7woaNkZ5ImWLhqSlQmvhyvlynKPsfksNEW2ALfkbdw2C/s1600-h/aDSC08419.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429167166539202" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ccXTRyeND6fXXwmScO0a9Yvgg3ijSFB8I-KNV5VV0WjDiN2II9bJy4lqzbyepKmA7zuO-TKsUGuvT0LrFYIG3SfkvNuQqBcO7woaNkZ5ImWLhqSlQmvhyvlynKPsfksNEW2ALfkbdw2C/s320/aDSC08419.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3I-7bCdNFhg_t2cSDYfjaxKjs72PMaX-6AS-ccKX7XQnTqokcmnpUZaFiRY7iICr1NT2ShaoQNXSa1pNIvE0TMhZtilUZ3NpqHMYN7e2H7orygmnJ3d0dAeNHtvjsXIBBamaqxDiJyaco/s1600-h/aDSC08421.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429191315405986" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3I-7bCdNFhg_t2cSDYfjaxKjs72PMaX-6AS-ccKX7XQnTqokcmnpUZaFiRY7iICr1NT2ShaoQNXSa1pNIvE0TMhZtilUZ3NpqHMYN7e2H7orygmnJ3d0dAeNHtvjsXIBBamaqxDiJyaco/s320/aDSC08421.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Tonight I went out to eat, looking for a good Indian restaurant. I had the realization that I now picture Indian food as separate from Bengali food, when before I would’ve lumped it together. So now when I want a break from Bangladeshi cuisine, I search out Indian. I’m sure if I’d heard of that before, I’d consider it giving up a hamburger for a cheeseburger. So I had Indian food tonight, and it was such a change of pace, despite it being a Bangladeshi interpretation on Indian food.</div><div></div><br /><div><strong>46th-4th in Dhaka 7/19<br /></strong><br />I think I’ve missed the worst of monsoon (knock on wood.) I heard it rained non-stop while I was in Nepal and India, and since I’ve been back, it has only rained randomly, and been mostly decent days. I did ask someone if the monsoon was half over, and after some hesitation to make such a bold statement, they admitted that you could say it was.<br /><br />Sick today. Spent almost the whole day lying on my bed. I’d get up and be real dizzy. Had the chills, then got very hot. Certainly a fever. Sitting down and standing up required lots of effort.<br /><br />I spent the day waiting for my new credit card to arrive via DHL. I was following the tracking information online, and knew it should be arriving today. Then I saw it pop up on the tracking that the address was not able to be reached and I should contact DHL. Despite Naira’s assurances that DHL is excellent at getting things to you in Dhaka, my worries that they would not be able to find my place came true. So I called DHL and they gave me the number of the driver. I tried calling the driver several times but he never picked up. So despite being sick and exhausted, I set out for the DHL office closest to me hoping they could help me resolve the problem.<br />There, they called around, found the driver, and the driver said he could be at the office within a half hour. Relieved, I went and got some lunch while I waited. By the time I got back, the package was there. I opened it up to get my credit card, and immediately walked to the nearby HSBC to withdraw some funds. With that, my crisis of being without my credit card ended.</div><div></div><br /><div>In the evening I stopped by the store in front of my house to show them the Bangladesh guide book they wanted to see. Only Hamid was there. We went through the book together, and he asked me what each map was of, as in which city. After awhile I told him to try and read it himself. I know he knows the letters. He only could sound out two or three of the names, and the rest I had to give him the answer.<br /><br />By nighttime, after getting soup for dinner, I felt a lot better.In the evening I stopped by the store in front of my house to show them the Bangladesh guide book they wanted to see. Only Hamid was there. We went through the book together, and he asked me what each map was of, as in which city. After awhile I told him to try and read it himself. I know he knows the letters. He only could sound out two or three of the names, and the rest I had to give him the answer.<br /><br />By nighttime, after getting soup for dinner, I felt a lot better.</div><div></div><br /><div><strong>46th-5th in Dhaka 7/20</strong><br /><br />With my new credit card, I was able to buy my ticket from Singapore to Bangkok in October. Glad that is out of the way. Booked on Tiger Airways. Still have to book my flight from Dhaka to Bangkok in September, but that has to be done in person as Bangladeshi airlines don’t have online purchasing.<br /><br />Spent the morning reviewing the work Shegufta had done for me, and filling in some gaps in my data. In the evening I went to Shahbag to collect the PM peak period of data. It was very hectic. First my stopwatch broke, so I had to use my cell phone’s stopwatch to do all the timing, and it was bit more awkward. As well, it got dark, so I could barely see what I was doing, no streetlight nearby. And all the buses were very packed, and they seemed to come in groups of ten!<br /><br />For dinner I met up with Toma at Pizza Hut. Despite the fact that she agreed to my invite, she doesn’t really like pizza she said. Oh well, more for me. I had been doodling on some paper when she arrived, and that led to a competition to see who could draw the better crocodile, elephant, camel, and giraffe…but if you looked at her sheet you would’ve thought we were trying to draw a fish, a cow, another cow, and an ostrich respectively. </div><br /><div></div><div><strong>46th-6th in Dhaka 7/21</strong><br /><br />I spent the day going through the data and pulling results from it. One thing I spent time doing was using an online route measuring tool (USA Track and Field’s website which allows you to draw your running routes) to measure the length of the bus routes. I’ll be using this data to find average speeds of the buses throughout their routes. It was a big part of my data that was missing.<br />I also did some work to analyze the bus routes by fifths. Seeing which part of the route seems to be the busiest. Surprisingly it’s the second and third fifth that seem to have the most crowding. Not sure what this means just yet, but it was interesting to see. Perhaps it’s because buses load up so early on that latter stops don’t even have passengers show up thinking the bus will just be crowded. Thus, the only thing that starts happening are alights at that stop, and the bus quickly decrowds. But that doesn’t make sense, as the feedback loop would show people would show up to the stop then. Maybe Dhaka’s routes are just characteristically like that.<br /><br />Tonight I had jackfruit for the first time. This is the national fruit of Bangladesh, and I’ve only heard bad reviews about it from foreigners, with only Megan giving it a decent review. It does have the sad fact that when it’s thrown away, it starts to smell like rotten onions. Some even feel it smells like rotten onions when it’s fresh. Anyway, jackfruits are huge. They grow off of trees that don’t look like they can hold even one jackfruit, but it holds scores! They are everywhere! People really enjoy them, and I’m always seeing someone carrying one around under their arm.<br />Tonight I got to eat it. A man who I always see in front of the store in front of my house was standing on the street, and we started talking. He then invited me in to have some jackfruit. I agreed, and was nervous for my first taste of what others before me have hated. He handed me a bowl full of these yellow polyps, about an inch and a half in length and an inch wide, which were the innards of the jackfruit. Inside each polyp was a seed. You just pop it into your mouth and spit out the seed. The consistency and texture were that of bubble gum. I honestly felt like I had shoved half a packet of Big League Chew into my mouth. I ate about five before I couldn’t eat anymore. They were fairly sweet, and the taste was good, but not something I had planned to gouge on the first time. (pics: a jackfruit tree with ripe jackfruits at BUET, jackfruit tree covered in jackfruits, the enormous jackfruits being sold on the street)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqb8RVANbik9fpvmqNDqau0wgyxOCPUt682ACNXD2KCTnppUQmIfBCJ_nK56a8j7I3XuVXv-YXTPkILNLh_Z0twDNwIyNwK4W5TfijIC7RSZhiwjOkrciQpa9WM1CyaBTQC7W2UEZTuDu/s1600-h/aDSC06881.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429698654366162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqb8RVANbik9fpvmqNDqau0wgyxOCPUt682ACNXD2KCTnppUQmIfBCJ_nK56a8j7I3XuVXv-YXTPkILNLh_Z0twDNwIyNwK4W5TfijIC7RSZhiwjOkrciQpa9WM1CyaBTQC7W2UEZTuDu/s320/aDSC06881.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYKWMZoKuksiMJUylB76aeAC92OzlC0G4PjAisGPFvyAdSklk5LRRWR3-xutDNtnow_hHJZMM9g0p-9LDG8LXfH1lhEYhjZYUXUBIJmLGQhNgAdUJRSBuS0VP4OrmKp4jgSxepx3odL_O/s1600-h/aDSC06884.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429701437148658" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYKWMZoKuksiMJUylB76aeAC92OzlC0G4PjAisGPFvyAdSklk5LRRWR3-xutDNtnow_hHJZMM9g0p-9LDG8LXfH1lhEYhjZYUXUBIJmLGQhNgAdUJRSBuS0VP4OrmKp4jgSxepx3odL_O/s320/aDSC06884.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDfX7k_YZLT6uJpEnrJkZVL-8esihhvbk2dhLgm3ps9frFmoETV38CxvmfLmMXGyxoWUam_w5h3MlN-UIUFDAmRft_C-0qSJddY0t3F5psND0OKO8DwuF33XiwGPLXHS8iOFf1eWRPNet/s1600-h/aDSC07471.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226429140450099298" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDfX7k_YZLT6uJpEnrJkZVL-8esihhvbk2dhLgm3ps9frFmoETV38CxvmfLmMXGyxoWUam_w5h3MlN-UIUFDAmRft_C-0qSJddY0t3F5psND0OKO8DwuF33XiwGPLXHS8iOFf1eWRPNet/s320/aDSC07471.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Right after I felt something stuck in my throat. Perhaps for the same reason we are told not to swallow gum, the jackfruit was stuck in my throat. I couldn’t cough it up, I couldn’t swallow it down. I kept coughing. It tickled and stayed in my throat despite some water I drank and a cookie I ate. It seemed only time finally got it down, about three hours.<br /><br />I picked up my backpack from the dry cleaner today. It had gotten covered in mold from the humidity in my room. They did a great job, perfectly clean, like new! </div><div></div><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">46th-7th in Dhaka 7/22</span><br /><br />Today was a day in Gulshan, with lots of errands to run and work to get done, and even see a few people. I had three data collections, one in Gulshan-1 and two in front of Mohakhali Center. These were curbside collections, so it’s constant observing of buses going past and stopping, and counting the people. Not too exhausting, and fun as well. Saw some of the ticket sellers who recognize me and they’re always fun to talk to.<br /><br />In the morning, after the first data collection, I stopped by the Vietnamese embassy to get my visa for my trip there in October with my friend Amy from high school on our Southeast Asia trip. This embassy didn’t allow us inside, despite it seeming to be just an apartment in an apartment building. A man out front in a guardhouse took the papers, went upstairs. Came back down, told me to wait. Up again, down again, told me to wait, Went up again, came down, told me to pay Tk3700. I thought it was Tk1900, according to the sheet hanging right next to his head, but he just said Tk3700 again, and told me he can’t tell me why it’s more. I sighed and handed him all the money I’d brought. I’ve learned now to always bring about twice as much money to embassies, as the listed visa prices never seem to be just that.<br />Finally got a receipt for my payment and told my visa will be ready in 6 days.<br /><br />I then went to Best Air to buy an airline ticket from Dhaka to Bangkok, my final flight out of Bangladesh (sad!) The office, I’d been there before, is in Gulshan-2. Last time they told me I couldn’t book flights for September just yet because the schedule wasn’t set. Well today I asked to book, and the woman told me the schedule still hasn’t been set, I have to wait until August. I was shocked, I could not believe with two months to go, the schedule was not set. Sitting there in mini-shock, her coworker turned to me and asked when I was flying, overhearing the conversation that the flight was not on the schedule yet. I told him September 28, and he looked it up, and he said it can be booked. I looked at her, and she blankly looked at me back and shyly smiled.<br />They then took about 30 minutes to get my ticket ready. I was the only one customer the entire time, for four employees. Beautiful office. But could not figure out what could take so long. They did want at some point my ticket out of Bangkok, so needing a copy, I went behind the counter to print one off of gmail. Office has no customer/worker boundaries. They then enjoyed reading my itinerary home. Since only one guy was actually doing the ticket stuff, the other three just browsed my personal materials. The one working was also trying to get me more baggage allowance as theirs is much lower than what I will have with me (EVERYTHING.)<br />Finally I got the ticket. I paid by credit card. And I was set.<br /><br />At both the embassy today, and the airline office, I was asked, “Why are you doing this so early?” This isn’t the first time I’ve been asked this in Bangladesh. First, I’m not the type to leave things to the last minute. But also, I find that travel arrangements here are many times made very quickly. I feel most trips I’ve been to out of the city have been planed just a week before, and everything comes together just fine. I’ve known many people to buy plane tickets the day before going somewhere. And I’ve known many people to be getting their visa for a country the week before leaving, and pick it up the day before.<br /><br />Second data collection was just after lunch, and after that I met up with Jessica, a girl who came here from Emory and works at ICDDR,B. We had kept trying to meet up after she had initially emailed me before even coming to Bangladesh. We got some food at a nearby hotel, and she brought her other friend Jessica too, they both go to Emory. I then trailed them as they went shopping for fabric, as I had nothing else to do.<br /><br />I did the evening data collection, and then headed to Nafisa’s aunt’s home. I had dinner with Ishfaq, Ishraq, and her aunt and uncle. Hadn’t been by for awhile as I don’t live on that side of town anymore. And first time I’ve had dinner there for even longer.<br /><br />Also, I found out that Emily Gifford, my friend from NC State who visited me in Bangladesh, has a blog. She is keeping track of <a href="http://medschoolstudent.blogspot.com/">her time in medical school</a>. I posted the link to the sidebar.</div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-32509101893756313082008-07-19T13:26:00.007+06:002008-07-19T18:42:31.457+06:00Week 45: Sacrifices for the Taj Mahal (wallets and cameras)<strong>45th-1st in Kathmandu 7/9</strong><br /><br />Today we headed out to Patan. The Kathmandu valley has three cities that used to be three independent rival kingdoms: Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur. They were unified as one in 1769. They are all very close together, thus it was only a 10 minute minibus ride south to Patan. We explored the Durbar Square there, and even saw some of the large chariots that are used for festival celebrating. We roamed the city for a bit, and later found a Newari restaurant, but the lunch ended up being much too spicy for us. (pics: myself posing in front of the wheel of the festival chariot, the two festival chariots we came upon in Patan, Patan's Durbar Sqaure, Patan's Durbar Square)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhek97La1owcxO5YnYlvXtKbYvGxWYgenYgi-tN-H4q_nKvsCyrnAc3OIiyjndOInaXDK8Htn7x3NsMgQ1jmeP3pqLuksiz3HiC-HhyphenhyphenHHcJdeofAdDTC4qkcCsTNLMtSgSXy3Mz8K-5zBtR/s1600-h/aDSC07933.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224609504061107986" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhek97La1owcxO5YnYlvXtKbYvGxWYgenYgi-tN-H4q_nKvsCyrnAc3OIiyjndOInaXDK8Htn7x3NsMgQ1jmeP3pqLuksiz3HiC-HhyphenhyphenHHcJdeofAdDTC4qkcCsTNLMtSgSXy3Mz8K-5zBtR/s320/aDSC07933.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMjxXV9V-d-cGPi_VHv0bzQAynw8Dkk3oinnUHIIN8kn7mOOZXCID6T1AcZLoJ-FXAbU5_E0fl3en3K3t8JcRGKWbCdDwd-rVCD8x7K7Cp2L0VG4fp7yscRQkHeyV-3njAGhKoaKfjo_5/s1600-h/aDSC07935.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224609506028921058" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMjxXV9V-d-cGPi_VHv0bzQAynw8Dkk3oinnUHIIN8kn7mOOZXCID6T1AcZLoJ-FXAbU5_E0fl3en3K3t8JcRGKWbCdDwd-rVCD8x7K7Cp2L0VG4fp7yscRQkHeyV-3njAGhKoaKfjo_5/s320/aDSC07935.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXGzcW-PRf93z_Qh_rBgRy78R3M8P9GYad_UFmKXSr4zJfy-0IUpKWk-o8hKi-_T5pMaUjAsQpi8RwwUeNZ4gk8EPZOAzKAIPsX6WIW3sAyVVU0yl3TlmZEDNpMoocBGB2b1-mHuvKCWe/s1600-h/aDSC07938.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224609509759653074" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXGzcW-PRf93z_Qh_rBgRy78R3M8P9GYad_UFmKXSr4zJfy-0IUpKWk-o8hKi-_T5pMaUjAsQpi8RwwUeNZ4gk8EPZOAzKAIPsX6WIW3sAyVVU0yl3TlmZEDNpMoocBGB2b1-mHuvKCWe/s320/aDSC07938.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0vXQkdUajX-EcY2788o9dX65Tb9ihps6kWS28H5npvLUePq3nAbq5-va1HhgftiN0lSMzXU2tLPdFrfQZDbw0sGhfKD4T9N4p-OT8T42d8npWJtMbE94BRo3VJ8KpTkt0qUYXLXM6KXo/s1600-h/aDSC07943.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224609513884136322" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0vXQkdUajX-EcY2788o9dX65Tb9ihps6kWS28H5npvLUePq3nAbq5-va1HhgftiN0lSMzXU2tLPdFrfQZDbw0sGhfKD4T9N4p-OT8T42d8npWJtMbE94BRo3VJ8KpTkt0qUYXLXM6KXo/s320/aDSC07943.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We came back to Kathmandu just as it started to pour. We ran into the Kathmandu Mall and browsed the shops for a bit. I ended up buying a new memory card for my camera. I only had 128MB, 64MB, and 32MB cards, so a 1GB was a nice addition to the family. After we got a snack (I was the only one who really ate much lunch) at the same place I’d found good Newari snacks yesterday.<br /><br />Upon getting back I went gift shopping. On my walk I was yelled to by a young man sitting on the curb. Figuring it was another tourist tout, I ignored him, like the scores who shout to us every hour. But he then yelled, “Why won’t you talk to me? Please just give me a chance.” So I did. I turned back and asked what he wanted. He wanted to ask me why all us foreigners ignore all the Nepalis in the street. I’m sure he knew, but I still humored him replied about how we figure anyone yelling to us randomly is just trying to sell us things. After that we ended up chatting for about 20 minutes. I told him I lived in Bangladesh and he told me has a friend who lives in Dhanmondi, and I was excited to tell him that’s where I live. It was nice to chat with a guy who wasn’t trying to sell me anything. I did find out that during this off-season they don’t make much money at all, going some days without a single customer. He told me they live this part of the year on the profits they earn during the peak season.<br /><br />That night Travis and I made a phone call to our friend and fellow band member Chris. It was the first time the three of us had talked together since last summer. (pic: myself/Chris...the phone/Travis)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dm3X6EjtTQ12Gb19HH8PCMUMVto_i5owQGRTmULF_i21rq9pa8FNVv0G8OPFygLCW4iMR1KECmlb5zDtQv5vNUB6jeKEQPk7qGIjbuddTJnaCMN0hovZlBHy_pul84YOWfhIOqjWn4Qi/s1600-h/aDSC07985.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224609511610009810" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dm3X6EjtTQ12Gb19HH8PCMUMVto_i5owQGRTmULF_i21rq9pa8FNVv0G8OPFygLCW4iMR1KECmlb5zDtQv5vNUB6jeKEQPk7qGIjbuddTJnaCMN0hovZlBHy_pul84YOWfhIOqjWn4Qi/s320/aDSC07985.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>45th-2nd in Delhi 7/10 </strong><br /><br />We got up early and took a taxi to the airport. We had to pay a departure tax to get out of Nepal, 1356 Rupees. The departure lounge was a room that held about three flights worth of passengers, and we waited until they called our plane to leave. The flight's highlight was seeing the peaks of the Himalayas, which avoided our view all week, poke above the monsoon clouds. (pic: Himalayan peaks poking through the monsoon clouds as seen from a flight from Kathmandu to Delhi) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrz63YivnU4ZsZcm8JL2KxKTN1SnVe0WPYl-MQiV54lI7YRkfm6N-AccTr1uXgDl2uf2JbSNY8p-Yjl9buw7BItx0LZZ9vamhfc6aaTyj5iO3QO4R9D3RsVMKOkeXXWhHkRKr12ALCEDwJ/s1600-h/aDSC07997.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrz63YivnU4ZsZcm8JL2KxKTN1SnVe0WPYl-MQiV54lI7YRkfm6N-AccTr1uXgDl2uf2JbSNY8p-Yjl9buw7BItx0LZZ9vamhfc6aaTyj5iO3QO4R9D3RsVMKOkeXXWhHkRKr12ALCEDwJ/s320/aDSC07997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224625607947681602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Upon arriving in Delhi, we bought a train ticket to Agra for tomorrow at the counter there, and then we said goodbye to Emily who was going back to the United States, and Travis and I got a pre-paid taxi into Delhi. The ride in was fun for me, seeing so many bridges, overpasses, and high-speed highways. We were staying near the New Delhi train station in Paharganj. After dropping our stuff off at the hotel, we got some lunch and went to the train station to buy a ticket back from Agra (getting our bases covered.)<br /><br />We then set out to see some of the sights of Delhi. Our first stop was Jama Masjid, India’s national mosque. The structure was incredible, and it was wonderful that we were allowed to walk around with no issues. It was even possible, for a small cost, to go up inside one of the minarets. This was an opportunity I could not pass up. The climb up was through a tight spiral staircase, up many stories. From the top you could see out all over Delhi. It was neat to imagine that this was where the call to prayer was made before loudspeakers were invented. This was the most special part of my entire trip to India. (pics: Jama Masid in Delhi, view of the main courtyard from atop the minaret, view of Delhi from atop the minaret, Jama Masjid and the bazar immediately leading up to it)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLAItWVdcVgu4M75-J3t-RbokF1sS4nyXqYEgYUzJq1dM4Hc4tHkEZF2CeQDYFN0ISIUnjyliGHbz6i4jSRQJlMey94TuymgQlhcslUCMU2n7RYFNukxfC0cPS1ziEC_mURZ9xGZiVEKz/s1600-h/aDSC08058.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224602431249535170" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLAItWVdcVgu4M75-J3t-RbokF1sS4nyXqYEgYUzJq1dM4Hc4tHkEZF2CeQDYFN0ISIUnjyliGHbz6i4jSRQJlMey94TuymgQlhcslUCMU2n7RYFNukxfC0cPS1ziEC_mURZ9xGZiVEKz/s320/aDSC08058.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUp2yVHMIVKno2YJHKkEXN5ra_x7kmuvMQobGM5WPlztX8duytQOjO-hPb7eMAzwyr4yohTDCxEK3qF_yz40KFLs0nJco6nlmRtgu3vjYNv_bc_UpB5Nj3gGEEb6V4geTdFFtiPBX0uiDM/s1600-h/aDSC08045.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224602427271853746" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUp2yVHMIVKno2YJHKkEXN5ra_x7kmuvMQobGM5WPlztX8duytQOjO-hPb7eMAzwyr4yohTDCxEK3qF_yz40KFLs0nJco6nlmRtgu3vjYNv_bc_UpB5Nj3gGEEb6V4geTdFFtiPBX0uiDM/s320/aDSC08045.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWd7OA9_bj42VZVUhh1Mak2cKb-MeIghAlTFRG5xRBx883BoPQFWC1t4JB714y14tJDg1RrHwc_l47vhBN5yTtRNgYzC3KjWoOmMRopSmj_tDo7v46407HeOYJLagRRlognU0MnCzRZTH/s1600-h/aDSC08042.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224604295806790850" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWd7OA9_bj42VZVUhh1Mak2cKb-MeIghAlTFRG5xRBx883BoPQFWC1t4JB714y14tJDg1RrHwc_l47vhBN5yTtRNgYzC3KjWoOmMRopSmj_tDo7v46407HeOYJLagRRlognU0MnCzRZTH/s320/aDSC08042.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd6m0niubeNO88qYf-lvu8NZVjr8BN83UPvWtreLmUojGaP0z-EdKLYDP44wGFcF88YBWSnS5ptiWE08FqZMNWn6EtbknTypEKbNGclhb_iEGJI1XNNZIoVS9b2pB30umngnp7VpIJSC7/s1600-h/aDSC08060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224602430152195298" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd6m0niubeNO88qYf-lvu8NZVjr8BN83UPvWtreLmUojGaP0z-EdKLYDP44wGFcF88YBWSnS5ptiWE08FqZMNWn6EtbknTypEKbNGclhb_iEGJI1XNNZIoVS9b2pB30umngnp7VpIJSC7/s320/aDSC08060.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then walked to the Red Fort, a Mughal fort that has played a large role in many episodes of India’s history. Inside, the former palace built by Shah Jahan had many marble structures and red sandstone ornamented works. We meandered the area until near to sunset. (pics: view of the Red Fort from atop the minaret at Jama Masjid, Travis inside the Red Fort, Travis/myself posing in the Red Fort, sunset casting shadows at the Diwan-i-Am in the Red Fort) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6czGSoJRLcPD7vsqPjTaaNz2q7SA1hVa-7ZVbARYbmVRQI0F-dpLRUZC3PB-s0uIo0fYPb4ZwrbH8ivAvUKzCHL3Lmhtb3yMVtpOy_PSHRGnlaIl3GkQfgn4f0MaSE0NTgDOmLoTh9v3/s1600-h/aDSC08044.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224604299371982274" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6czGSoJRLcPD7vsqPjTaaNz2q7SA1hVa-7ZVbARYbmVRQI0F-dpLRUZC3PB-s0uIo0fYPb4ZwrbH8ivAvUKzCHL3Lmhtb3yMVtpOy_PSHRGnlaIl3GkQfgn4f0MaSE0NTgDOmLoTh9v3/s320/aDSC08044.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKr9xUgZPsiChke1a-qIajtv6lXIOEg9vWqev9DxG3F3hZFnpT_bE8NeGcJ07cGtFlX44_EqypMcCv8UL1IyArYAMn0HyC4z64VRbl_gfy__qKRFXTRin7eA7V1qZyV3ACCxkXI5WmcfpN/s1600-h/aDSC08072.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224602433886093010" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKr9xUgZPsiChke1a-qIajtv6lXIOEg9vWqev9DxG3F3hZFnpT_bE8NeGcJ07cGtFlX44_EqypMcCv8UL1IyArYAMn0HyC4z64VRbl_gfy__qKRFXTRin7eA7V1qZyV3ACCxkXI5WmcfpN/s320/aDSC08072.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RN2k99aSzL1Noem-wR0_uJKAmXhXyDxQiivuJN-skUIq01W1ND_5UDZH3QE9WAhhkeKuIR220KpCL0E54y1safF8pVwWe-IRrvQLoGM7WJ_x6KiLEVCzUlfeBwRc06Fp_MgW6G93P9Xo/s1600-h/aDSC08077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224602432996627474" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RN2k99aSzL1Noem-wR0_uJKAmXhXyDxQiivuJN-skUIq01W1ND_5UDZH3QE9WAhhkeKuIR220KpCL0E54y1safF8pVwWe-IRrvQLoGM7WJ_x6KiLEVCzUlfeBwRc06Fp_MgW6G93P9Xo/s320/aDSC08077.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38hu8zDQGU70TWqyYICC5P5q8fTS1lV83UFcGN-LA07gO7yskP6Ib1jKXzmP4FIoAP7hUVF-bFss9wysgo4W_OpyXTosOCLgnNrRqQ1e2b3o4_3ShC4FEK2ssUUJ7lyntE3iO-9WNdgPC/s1600-h/aDSC08083.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224599780281206434" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38hu8zDQGU70TWqyYICC5P5q8fTS1lV83UFcGN-LA07gO7yskP6Ib1jKXzmP4FIoAP7hUVF-bFss9wysgo4W_OpyXTosOCLgnNrRqQ1e2b3o4_3ShC4FEK2ssUUJ7lyntE3iO-9WNdgPC/s320/aDSC08083.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then headed south to see if we could find the Gandhi Memorial. We found it, but it was already closed, so we headed west back into the center of the city. We had a hard time getting to where we wanted to go. The city isn’t very walkable, things separated by long distances of roads that don’t have much on them, very different from Dhaka. We were getting very tired, and when we finally got to Connaught Place, there was only one thing on our minds, getting to the McDonalds that we’d seen earlier while coming from the airport. It was found, and it was enjoyed. Always cool to see a menu of a familiar restaurant in a foreign country. The dishes were all chicken or vegetarian. And just as tasty. (pics: spotting McDonald's restaurant's golden arches coming from the airport, Travis emotionally moved to be enjoying McDonald's)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXjyfbNlWuahlijdlw_9y_G2TSa8rIKaUDnE3UpVNxLVEXBvdAEM3SdKwe_AQyTzo3fYyIChAZQ2kxLjGTiW4UD0JSp0EAiu-6xfZRMgTRDNuG5casHIJAxjPEql_zvNp64GvwtCXFDKp/s1600-h/aDSC08008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224604292987873090" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXjyfbNlWuahlijdlw_9y_G2TSa8rIKaUDnE3UpVNxLVEXBvdAEM3SdKwe_AQyTzo3fYyIChAZQ2kxLjGTiW4UD0JSp0EAiu-6xfZRMgTRDNuG5casHIJAxjPEql_zvNp64GvwtCXFDKp/s320/aDSC08008.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCp86BfoFuF3yBidrnt8tWvsX1vj0Hsub3L6ncvd9yFCInXBxD05W6ek0ltxlo2U94Ab8Zc2EjPcI9uIPvR_v8xuRiS41aHiy3BGE1FBWPa6XUA5PFdtGfUYTHt_03KOZbmCKrKW0KZflD/s1600-h/aDSC08094.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224599777858706802" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCp86BfoFuF3yBidrnt8tWvsX1vj0Hsub3L6ncvd9yFCInXBxD05W6ek0ltxlo2U94Ab8Zc2EjPcI9uIPvR_v8xuRiS41aHiy3BGE1FBWPa6XUA5PFdtGfUYTHt_03KOZbmCKrKW0KZflD/s320/aDSC08094.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>45th-3rd in Agra 7/11</strong><br /><br />We got up early and took a taxi across town to the train station where we would get our train to Agra. We had chosen to sit in second class for the short three hour train ride, and this meant there were three people per seat, and crowded aisles, with no air conditioning, just an army of fans above our heads. We never got too hot, but Travis, sitting on the aisle, did have people leaning on him the whole time. The scenery out the window was farmland as far as we could see. (pic: fans littering the ceiling of the Indian Railway's second class cabin)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO38lDCiwv0qmDYwllcPTzs9hUzJnzZI8lkGvE29PGdxkQxme55hyphenhyphenriZSAdyJJ3iaT_XDOFVxxU_QGvKKBDo4Mgodzr2TapnaTk8bAGpEV9jP3F8ribjvQ58MPNBz841spVfdaS79fJt8W/s1600-h/aDSC08097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224599782945469426" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO38lDCiwv0qmDYwllcPTzs9hUzJnzZI8lkGvE29PGdxkQxme55hyphenhyphenriZSAdyJJ3iaT_XDOFVxxU_QGvKKBDo4Mgodzr2TapnaTk8bAGpEV9jP3F8ribjvQ58MPNBz841spVfdaS79fJt8W/s320/aDSC08097.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We got to Agra and took a CNG to our hotel. Our driver offered to give us a tour of the city, and pulled out two books of handwritten reviews by former passengers of his tours. We read them on the ride over, and by the time we’d gotten to our hotel, we were happy with what we read and decided we’d ask him to show us around the next day. We planned to meet at 11 AM in front of our hotel.<br /><br />We ate breakfast, and bought some waters for a short trip today, we were headed out to see Fatehpur Sikri, about an hour from Agra. We boarded a CNG after much touting from rickshaws and other CNGs. We were close to bus station when I realized my wallet was gone. I knew I had bought the waters, so I had my wallet then. I don’t know if I was pickpocketed, or if I dropped it from my pocket, but either way it was gone. I had lost my credit card and 1800 Indian Rupees (luckily I had removed 6000 Rupees and $40 just before leaving the hotel.) After getting angry and going back to where I last saw it, Travis suggested we just stay back at the hotel for the day. It had a nice view of the Taj Mahal from the top, and he said he prefers to take some time to rest on vacations, which we hadn’t done much of.<br /><br />After ensuring my credit card was cancelled, and assessing my losses, we went up to the roof of our hotel. A day overlooking the Taj Mahal on the roof of our hotel was a great way to recover from a lost wallet. I read a lot in the book I’m reading, Brick Lane, and listened to music with Travis using my headphone cord splitter. We had some snacks and dinner up on the roof, and watched the sun set, lighting up the Taj Mahal in different colors as it set. It was very peaceful. (pics: Taj Mahal near sunset as seen from the roof of our hotel, Travis relaxing at the roof top restaurant where we watched the sun set on the Taj Mahal)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWAUVYq4zjezVN3nSuduYcdpz_tSI0B-j5-eyRxpioQAVCQIBK0Hwh10mf9nz-GPb0YHOl5AB3PTQvlU5aPY50pxJ_8Bm77hdEiQVo5LojgpSzRFj-0LlfwwiPAfHh-4bhg5U0Y-QwGg5/s1600-h/aDSC08124.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224599783181383090" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWAUVYq4zjezVN3nSuduYcdpz_tSI0B-j5-eyRxpioQAVCQIBK0Hwh10mf9nz-GPb0YHOl5AB3PTQvlU5aPY50pxJ_8Bm77hdEiQVo5LojgpSzRFj-0LlfwwiPAfHh-4bhg5U0Y-QwGg5/s320/aDSC08124.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4fxFFBGVk2AEKbWQzZNJO2pVGajJ3pD5wShesBZvRPg9uh1wKB3RUSoJ3E1G5ddnRJL-QCJ8jvn-o7UKq-xq6jxHmgoGy1oJzpGb16Q_RR9Q6lXhXgXuZFK3s-7U0-6ujuL5Bo2rpttE/s1600-h/aDSC08135.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224599792862169074" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4fxFFBGVk2AEKbWQzZNJO2pVGajJ3pD5wShesBZvRPg9uh1wKB3RUSoJ3E1G5ddnRJL-QCJ8jvn-o7UKq-xq6jxHmgoGy1oJzpGb16Q_RR9Q6lXhXgXuZFK3s-7U0-6ujuL5Bo2rpttE/s320/aDSC08135.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong><br />45th-4th in Agra 7/12</strong><br /><br />We got up early to go see the Taj Mahal. The gates open at 6 AM, and we were there with many other foreigners. Seeing the structure at sunrise is supposed to be a nice way to experience it as the weather is cooler and the crowds are less. It was. We walked in and were blown away. We pulled out our cameras, and that’s when our second Agra tragedy struck. Trav’s camera screen flickered and went out. We finally diagnosed the problem that his screen was fine, but every picture he took was all black. So I was assigned “take as many photos as you can” duty, as Travis takes more in a month than I do all year. I did my best. (pics: myself in front of the Taj Mahal, Travis in agony over the breaking of his camera at the Taj Mahal)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg__Nj5pGCCkvFBoUSmjAG7_pCnyOS7vjqHd5087vefFOH-AXYGiZxW3T22YulOlhANJs_3RFUYm_Ioajd-97JwTKOMHGl-796hZcsWZdLNv7dt-C2fCVEW-rfacgFB6X551JvLXaZvwfXu/s1600-h/aDSC08165.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224571079657073410" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg__Nj5pGCCkvFBoUSmjAG7_pCnyOS7vjqHd5087vefFOH-AXYGiZxW3T22YulOlhANJs_3RFUYm_Ioajd-97JwTKOMHGl-796hZcsWZdLNv7dt-C2fCVEW-rfacgFB6X551JvLXaZvwfXu/s320/aDSC08165.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEZnfOLALd8j7XcbAmKAIbBs_tqmbHrjwjAY6eFg_hec4bvUH6x-l38WYVb8EOzEpDnRPR8VIjMPKfZCOMZIILsJOVakKQkduEjczAwrWHoM8RYJ7Ai5tRgY_0TrXHnJCI5r7wnT07b_j/s1600-h/aDSC08167.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224571086333875138" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEZnfOLALd8j7XcbAmKAIbBs_tqmbHrjwjAY6eFg_hec4bvUH6x-l38WYVb8EOzEpDnRPR8VIjMPKfZCOMZIILsJOVakKQkduEjczAwrWHoM8RYJ7Ai5tRgY_0TrXHnJCI5r7wnT07b_j/s320/aDSC08167.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We explored the Taj Mahal inside and out, taking our time to sit in its view, and look out over the river. Going inside was incredible. Inside the dome, the effect a slight breeze outside caused was a reverberating that sounded like the moaning of faithful devotees. The marble work was incredible as well, inlaid with stones and ornamented over every inch. We stayed in and around the Taj Mahal for over two hours. (pics: myself in front of marble inlay at the Taj Mahal, Travis sitting under one of the iwans, mosque at the Taj Mahal, promenade around the Taj Mahal's platform with Yamuna River behind, myself standing underneath one of the arches with the Taj Mahal in front of me, Travis/myself posing in front of the Taj Mahal)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0qUXKCoIkYeVV5zIA9mMCknd6b3hYON3z8MpQbTQ5acCAZm6f5OMh-QhS1EhhbcqI01n_EH3A3bKI-1u03YOZFVDnhu_8XwCpU45NTTc1Ak-64f02GregYyI2_as0hp8T0g6Zb2Z3Pct/s1600-h/aDSC08182.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224571088161980658" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0qUXKCoIkYeVV5zIA9mMCknd6b3hYON3z8MpQbTQ5acCAZm6f5OMh-QhS1EhhbcqI01n_EH3A3bKI-1u03YOZFVDnhu_8XwCpU45NTTc1Ak-64f02GregYyI2_as0hp8T0g6Zb2Z3Pct/s320/aDSC08182.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KiP72Xi9fs3chnikimwBYNbo_Tsf7L6evP4XIgceT7CUgCqf6yD11ggtMEo7l-A2H46alrwM4fruwzzuoYTUVU3rY7jePD6YeQpSS8NhtgaipupmUlwDMJlt8eUrIABcqtk9pwQWiQzx/s1600-h/aDSC08185.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224571087144613970" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KiP72Xi9fs3chnikimwBYNbo_Tsf7L6evP4XIgceT7CUgCqf6yD11ggtMEo7l-A2H46alrwM4fruwzzuoYTUVU3rY7jePD6YeQpSS8NhtgaipupmUlwDMJlt8eUrIABcqtk9pwQWiQzx/s320/aDSC08185.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLVw2XEe29EKcousYf8I0CGEXFblBSPM31xlfoBNliVu5YtdasCv80o3lOq4kS3f5P1qkZGjQ_GDLmfhE2eh4tblbioHyIMh4RErSJBHt3c5H04a7eGgjUCyE24Nqoo9t4Ug1HYp_qUOM/s1600-h/aDSC08198.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224570091454060722" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLVw2XEe29EKcousYf8I0CGEXFblBSPM31xlfoBNliVu5YtdasCv80o3lOq4kS3f5P1qkZGjQ_GDLmfhE2eh4tblbioHyIMh4RErSJBHt3c5H04a7eGgjUCyE24Nqoo9t4Ug1HYp_qUOM/s320/aDSC08198.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUZyHR3I40B_7zr6IAggBHmhmUKfI8Ed-bIqiw6Td4sUgJL38JY5K_UAmEt6tKCU2P4lGTzZ0Q6HtvpXkxVepIAPSHdjtWGK0kn8nYAE_UnkORrNc7DrnVkOvjd0BEH6KIEIolfkUEfxC/s1600-h/aDSC08200.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224570091386165266" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUZyHR3I40B_7zr6IAggBHmhmUKfI8Ed-bIqiw6Td4sUgJL38JY5K_UAmEt6tKCU2P4lGTzZ0Q6HtvpXkxVepIAPSHdjtWGK0kn8nYAE_UnkORrNc7DrnVkOvjd0BEH6KIEIolfkUEfxC/s320/aDSC08200.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mf8j78ncefuBOK54ELHowzggVC_1MrY6TbFQWAzQMRtKsgUtYB2t77OHxBuEVQf2B5PHt1zgVWylsMoQgRDnh5FuMIv9rdA1rkPsEpx9gD2qrylzTilLkUNnLe4doQI8OwFJGe3lUyJw/s1600-h/aDSC08209.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224570094484336322" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mf8j78ncefuBOK54ELHowzggVC_1MrY6TbFQWAzQMRtKsgUtYB2t77OHxBuEVQf2B5PHt1zgVWylsMoQgRDnh5FuMIv9rdA1rkPsEpx9gD2qrylzTilLkUNnLe4doQI8OwFJGe3lUyJw/s320/aDSC08209.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4N5GM5h9c7icXaZ1fIQsbHBA5iIqnCyam58srXEALuh0fiJ3PuWT3yeKdFyFRqhtwknUpmer5fO5fToyzf-IiIq2Kr7ZnjDGvS64wFNThgG2ca8RdTa8FIhGrHE2_yhXz_jpH54kYPXAI/s1600-h/aDSC08210.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224570096771006914" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4N5GM5h9c7icXaZ1fIQsbHBA5iIqnCyam58srXEALuh0fiJ3PuWT3yeKdFyFRqhtwknUpmer5fO5fToyzf-IiIq2Kr7ZnjDGvS64wFNThgG2ca8RdTa8FIhGrHE2_yhXz_jpH54kYPXAI/s320/aDSC08210.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After eating breakfast and checking out of our hotel, we were picked up by the CNG driver from yesterday for our tour of Agra. He took us to several sights in the city not named the Taj Mahal including Chini-ka-Rauza, Itimad-ud-Daulah (also known affectionately as the Baby Taj), and Agra Fort. We also saw a backside view of the Taj from across the Yamuna River, and also brought us to a good restaurant. What was especially nice was he took us to a few places we never would’ve found by ourselves including some temples, a house ornamented with elephants in every which way, and the method in which clothing is boiled and washed on the river. Our tour was not without a visit to a marble shop, which we had the choice to turn down knowing it’d be a trap to buy something, but I really wanted to see how the marble inlays of the Taj Mahal were made, so we risked the pitch and learned how the very detailed intense process was done. (pics: Travis at Chini-ka-Rauza, Itimad-ud-Daulah, riverside clothes washing business hangs out the fabrics to dry, backside view of the Taj Mahal looking over the Yamuna River, view from Agra Fort over the Yamuna River, inside Agra Fort)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIKnCw0r2OgxqUY8zB_k02DXkUQsU1Bu9jqU_o_yqidTzQkgJv_fKTvUXfvmsiO_OIN_x95s5YKQ-KQ7Bqr60fSHvGmNzjhLeE3x04dp8i5rWaatprDqYsV3kdyhaI3DmvY0XQHO80M9Q/s1600-h/aDSC08260.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224574333377598338" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIKnCw0r2OgxqUY8zB_k02DXkUQsU1Bu9jqU_o_yqidTzQkgJv_fKTvUXfvmsiO_OIN_x95s5YKQ-KQ7Bqr60fSHvGmNzjhLeE3x04dp8i5rWaatprDqYsV3kdyhaI3DmvY0XQHO80M9Q/s320/aDSC08260.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzz5bmAbXmjx7M4LiZvPCrz9uYt0BLRDejbDN2z6XTY4LZFzO6cenITsBneo-WUhWlcO0Z0xayZGRnb1M0XnIY7NadEDYEkb1P4CtXwL3RDdVk-YENQrGR46Al4Csg9CfXBawjAAgfYSFS/s1600-h/aDSC08290.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224573534005777170" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzz5bmAbXmjx7M4LiZvPCrz9uYt0BLRDejbDN2z6XTY4LZFzO6cenITsBneo-WUhWlcO0Z0xayZGRnb1M0XnIY7NadEDYEkb1P4CtXwL3RDdVk-YENQrGR46Al4Csg9CfXBawjAAgfYSFS/s320/aDSC08290.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalEcKs3qMw2u7F90vw1TsTyrpXacuTt32LnicVPz4VoIIhaqS98z-o83V1YUtz8R0FVZ3JWa6qw5VytNLRqO-jCsy6K6YJz4GkmQUPTxuSvna0OCEkSuyfbsUfcwft55fCVgWWrTO3L7o/s1600-h/aDSC08301.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224573534961038658" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalEcKs3qMw2u7F90vw1TsTyrpXacuTt32LnicVPz4VoIIhaqS98z-o83V1YUtz8R0FVZ3JWa6qw5VytNLRqO-jCsy6K6YJz4GkmQUPTxuSvna0OCEkSuyfbsUfcwft55fCVgWWrTO3L7o/s320/aDSC08301.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PkHln59Tr34gj9-OyK_ww2LcSHTT6YwW-t0P8o_RUvUR_qWELNCaKbGEGGFTuowJcXbmuuYkF16Q7_WUAmKq0oduf2ZiEEA9EWARuCuknTGnIcIzNZ4okFBoo4_HjvPjHkiipudB6x6z/s1600-h/aDSC08313.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224573537025296194" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PkHln59Tr34gj9-OyK_ww2LcSHTT6YwW-t0P8o_RUvUR_qWELNCaKbGEGGFTuowJcXbmuuYkF16Q7_WUAmKq0oduf2ZiEEA9EWARuCuknTGnIcIzNZ4okFBoo4_HjvPjHkiipudB6x6z/s320/aDSC08313.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgln5gIn9t5pO9V3IxxZi7BJdZKbdJdvlh8qM-SNQaufN3zGgcsgyPk18gWPPKHiBBh3PmIfNlq082vt_bJCxiwGi1ZF1fsadc2scIVVqKagYvWvSCqMuDQfzh4puepZKW51qmjwqXgijtc/s1600-h/aDSC08361.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224573536892410370" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgln5gIn9t5pO9V3IxxZi7BJdZKbdJdvlh8qM-SNQaufN3zGgcsgyPk18gWPPKHiBBh3PmIfNlq082vt_bJCxiwGi1ZF1fsadc2scIVVqKagYvWvSCqMuDQfzh4puepZKW51qmjwqXgijtc/s320/aDSC08361.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8yTwymS4LVWOBKwYr8TL6tHQHNzYujO4lEqd7ivVlWvjf30jiYXyt0MXpf4GbsZbc8rIydrji8MX-n9gATXcbMkzZ79mcWoRSe7NNPX5gUl62aBqC-Rx0V5M6TTPmUQ34XdpmPfwNWn5/s1600-h/aDSC08367.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224573539004594578" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8yTwymS4LVWOBKwYr8TL6tHQHNzYujO4lEqd7ivVlWvjf30jiYXyt0MXpf4GbsZbc8rIydrji8MX-n9gATXcbMkzZ79mcWoRSe7NNPX5gUl62aBqC-Rx0V5M6TTPmUQ34XdpmPfwNWn5/s320/aDSC08367.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He brought us back to the train station, and we took our train back to Delhi, again sitting in second class. Upon arriving, we got a pre-paid CNG to take us to the airport. He initially wanted us to make us pay 40 Rupees over the pre-paid slip, but we refused and looked around, only to have him come back telling us he’d take us. It was raining, and some of the roads were flooded. He pulled to the side of the road at one point, and left us, and came back telling us to get in a different CNG, it was very sketchy since it was dark and raining. This CNG had another guy jump up front with the driver, and at one point this other guy took over the handlebars! Not sure if he just wanted to try his hand at driving, or if he was a student-driver. Either way he was a horrible driver, and even rear-ended a car lightly. These guys had no clue where the airport was (I don’t think the first CNG did either, that’s why he switched us over) and kept stopping, getting out, and asking directions. We saw limited signage, and so I only prayed we were going the right way. Finally getting to the airport, the drivers didn’t know how to pay a toll. They drove up and passed the toll booth, sitting in front of the swing-down bar. They then fought with the toll collectors about paying, and Travis finally said to me “Is this really happening?” as his departure time was fast approaching. Finally they agreed to pay the toll, and drove up to the terminal. They then stopped and pulled off to the side of the road in front of a police checkpoint, saying they couldn’t go any further, saying the police won’t let them. I insisted they go, and convincing them that it was okay took pointing out another CNG passing us by and going through the police checkpoint. Finally, we arrived at the terminal, and I said goodbye to Travis as he set off for his plane back to the US.<br /><br /><strong>45th-5th in Dhaka 7/13</strong><br /><br />I spent the night in the visitor’s lounge of the airport, which required a 60 Rupees entrance fee to rest there for 11 hours until my flight. That took some convincing of the guards, because you’re only allowed to officially stay there for 3 hours maximum for 30 Rupees. I wasn’t going to get a hotel as the airport is pretty far out and getting there was enough of a headache already. I spent the night in various positions on the benches that don’t allow lying down. At the same time guarding my bag by resting my feet on it. This was my first time sleeping in an airport. In the morning I changed to fresh clothing in the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then headed to the terminal to check in. While waiting for my flight I found a Subway, and enjoyed a turkey, chicken ham, and roasted lamb sub (no beef or pig in India) with plenty of oil and vinegar.<br /><br />I was very happy to land back in Dhaka. Flying in, I saw that much of the landscape was now under water. I’d heard it’d been raining in Bangladesh non-stop since I left. It felt good to arrive home too, but what was not nice was seeing the mold which had grown on my pillow cases and sheets due to the humidity, and another patch of mold on my wall. Very humid out. Unpacking and settling in seemed to last until bedtime.<br /><br />At the airport in Dhaka I was able to snap photos of the Aktel ad I was a model for. It was hanging on the baggage claim poles. No one recognized me…obviously it was the beard. (pic: Aktel ad I modeled for is on each pole in the airport's baggage claim area)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlTMAS8xus2s58jl1tLHTsTiRclo6vnQNYi1auXvX6ITEtNWRxBqtZkE_WPDpFIkQ7M4NliyxsVqYTYCiD_iNnrBbZlvi_N0btwNZVh9pZ5V96k0vZOVcd_hPgW9qpQcwSaWq4U4CwofB/s1600-h/aDSC08383.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224570102373235794" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlTMAS8xus2s58jl1tLHTsTiRclo6vnQNYi1auXvX6ITEtNWRxBqtZkE_WPDpFIkQ7M4NliyxsVqYTYCiD_iNnrBbZlvi_N0btwNZVh9pZ5V96k0vZOVcd_hPgW9qpQcwSaWq4U4CwofB/s320/aDSC08383.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>45th-6th in Dhaka 7/14 </strong><br /><br />My abstract to a conference in Chennai in September had been accepted two weeks back, and the draft paper was due tomorrow. Thus I had two days to pull my information together and have this paper submitted. I set to work, it took all my willpower to stay focused and write non-stop and tweak my results to produce quality graphs. I left the house only to eat lunch at my favorite hotel. Luckily Moweena came so we could start washing clothes, and have food at home to eat.<br /><br /><strong>45th-7th in Dhaka 7/15</strong><br /><br />Today was day two of writing this paper. I was proud of my progress. I’d gotten up to the results section last night, and finished the results and conclusion section tonight. Under the advice of Dr. Stone, who I did research under at NC State, the paper was more of a project update, as I really don’t have too much to report yet, just some qualitative descriptions of the bus system and its operations.<br /><br />I finished around 5pm and submitted it to the conference organizers. It felt great to be done. I met up with Diya at a café just after that, and was in good spirits for being done. Spent the rest of the day looking at the photos I’d taken in India and Nepal, and writing in my journal.</span>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-49433036255334456202008-07-17T16:02:00.023+06:002008-07-19T18:49:14.403+06:00Week 44: The Nepal sampler: a week of trekking, rafting, and sights<strong>44th-1st in Northeast India 7/2<br /></strong><br />Arrived at the Bangladesh border around 6:30 in the morning. Border didn’t open until 9am, so they had everyone hang out at the bus company’s office there. They had beds, so I laid down and napped for an hour.<br /><br />Border crossing was a long process. On the Bangladesh side, because we were foreigners, we got interviewed and were the last of our group to be allowed across. On the India side there were four different places we had to go, some twice, to be finally allowed to enter (this was for everyone.) In all the whole process took the whole bus 1.5 hours. We got to Siliguri around lunchtime. What impressed me immediately about India was the simple infrastructure that Bangladesh lacks. There were many bridges where roads crossed over other roads. There were traffic signals that people followed. It was evident that there was more money for development of infrastructure in India.<br /><br />A quick lunch in Siliguri. We decided, for good, not to go to Darjeeling because of the security situation, but also because we’d rather have an extra day in Kathmandu than have one in each place. So the decision was made, we were off to Nepal!<br /><br />This involved a one hour bus ride to the India/Nepal border. We had been crossing India at the thin point between Bangladesh and Nepal, only three hours to travel across. At the India side we only had to sign out at a single office, then we had to walk across the border. It was about a quarter of a mile to Nepal over a bridged river and up a short hill. In Nepal, Travis and Emily got there visas, we all got stamped and then looked for a bus to get across the country overnight to Pokhara. Despite a bunch of touts trying to lead us this way and that (tourism country!!) we found a bus that was reasonably priced and that was leaving soon. (pic: Emily/Travis on our bus through India to Nepal)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYE9fI-36KuJ5QDLj7wh3e-w10jySIDJJrrKdQMXUHNUWo8UWjmW-41Z1sTH-XUuXiQx1nHH1d70vVNYem-ZjRb7p04i5LNDjEbAhrOxlUNqOdjKt23hc9X9UtlXBuR3yH0jHt4SDT33y7/s1600-h/aDSC07568.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224025765560859458" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYE9fI-36KuJ5QDLj7wh3e-w10jySIDJJrrKdQMXUHNUWo8UWjmW-41Z1sTH-XUuXiQx1nHH1d70vVNYem-ZjRb7p04i5LNDjEbAhrOxlUNqOdjKt23hc9X9UtlXBuR3yH0jHt4SDT33y7/s320/aDSC07568.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We sat down, and all of a sudden a man came on telling us to get off and go on another bus, saying this bus wasn’t where we were going. I got off to verify, and found that we were on the correct bus. He kept telling me to come to another bus; meanwhile a bunch of people around us were grinning. I figured he was just another tout trying to trick us. I went back on the bus that Travis and Emily were still sitting on and asked some other passengers where the bus was going, and they verified for me it was Pokhara. Not in Nepal for more than 30 minutes and already almost scammed! My trust was a bit shaken and I spent the rest of the bus ride alert to make sure nothing else happened.<br /><br />The trip, before the sunset, was very nice. We were traveling in the flat part of Nepal called the Terai. It looks just like Bangladesh just with hills in the background. (pics: Terai of Nepal, sunset over the Terai in Nepal)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMd9us2axKu1RtVHEnlQG3vd1AHwm0t6ISLCfwAJvfQeX8zwB662bNBvSuXteoqm836NEg9fCJDfiwN_2oY1dZgFXE8QajYsDn5wDCg612oSDK-OXfIl3QX5w2cINvk8CeIy6VoTEIC1v/s1600-h/aDSC07588.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224024763195170770" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMd9us2axKu1RtVHEnlQG3vd1AHwm0t6ISLCfwAJvfQeX8zwB662bNBvSuXteoqm836NEg9fCJDfiwN_2oY1dZgFXE8QajYsDn5wDCg612oSDK-OXfIl3QX5w2cINvk8CeIy6VoTEIC1v/s320/aDSC07588.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpXFFZzFdnWnn-SYx_XnfQL1NFu4GaJabm2-pR9FUrjOrtVrWZYxZP512ksaZWd8NLFuPlYJ7GEzJylC9Zdu4n8-by6C1bDwFZ4qYXY3BSYgX3UupEdVDBdnbAwwy9N3migXloCk-z5ay/s1600-h/aDSC07607.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224024774113323698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpXFFZzFdnWnn-SYx_XnfQL1NFu4GaJabm2-pR9FUrjOrtVrWZYxZP512ksaZWd8NLFuPlYJ7GEzJylC9Zdu4n8-by6C1bDwFZ4qYXY3BSYgX3UupEdVDBdnbAwwy9N3migXloCk-z5ay/s320/aDSC07607.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>44th-2nd in Pokhara 7/3<br /><br /></strong>The bus stopped many times on our 17 hour journey across the country. A few times were at restaurants where we could get food and use the toilet, other times it was just to pee, and other times it was to unload things off the roof. Apparently besides the baskets of chicken we were carrying, we had several thousand pineapples strapped to the top. (pic: putting the chickens on the roof of our bus)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedGKQxLj6jpKqoYIOe3sOnGagedTuXsXiH6Yhf6lcicQKCq3-JhPfDrAyKHL4DtUooEIJDsmtWrgSqwB_fUEgBFonY1qw_0ALiSXKP6hXeQd0Pw7Kc8QPiKg66oAIbpogKaD7k-PoSdhs/s1600-h/aDSC07580.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224024757324736450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedGKQxLj6jpKqoYIOe3sOnGagedTuXsXiH6Yhf6lcicQKCq3-JhPfDrAyKHL4DtUooEIJDsmtWrgSqwB_fUEgBFonY1qw_0ALiSXKP6hXeQd0Pw7Kc8QPiKg66oAIbpogKaD7k-PoSdhs/s320/aDSC07580.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Arrived in Pokhara in the morning and went to a hotel. We chose a trek for tomorrow, got some lunch, walked around the very touristy part of town but its dead empty because it’s the off season. Place must be so packed during October. We went and saw Devi’s Falls, a waterfall that plunges underground what looked to be about 50 meters. Then we visited Gupteshwor Cave right across the road which has a stalagmite which is worshipped as a Shiva idol. (pics: Pokhara's tourist strip, Devi's Falls plunging underground)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwOa6fmwhSGUC677R6RvvEbhYCZvYygKF8qQ2_tKXCpi1M7M3GgShCBiANdKRca2cLzNNMbf7VjWdLf6rFS1kv0M2U84eEG4hnNP-JjrS5nCx71Ybb4zcnnaoX5RF9StJi27UEovJ4fTc/s1600-h/aDSC07636.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224024774054198402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwOa6fmwhSGUC677R6RvvEbhYCZvYygKF8qQ2_tKXCpi1M7M3GgShCBiANdKRca2cLzNNMbf7VjWdLf6rFS1kv0M2U84eEG4hnNP-JjrS5nCx71Ybb4zcnnaoX5RF9StJi27UEovJ4fTc/s320/aDSC07636.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zdjBSugS7HhTklYFZ0OvgiAxh_bhdedPwIcfV447EUPMxQ6M_p5CJEPbxPWc8-NLTyn9cpSRYerzzvOggEVUcpK614dMuWoqD-fA6jAQFWyRNIoHViSuYB__93Lun4IJOuYALYqGiCbB/s1600-h/aDSC07648.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224024779419202050" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zdjBSugS7HhTklYFZ0OvgiAxh_bhdedPwIcfV447EUPMxQ6M_p5CJEPbxPWc8-NLTyn9cpSRYerzzvOggEVUcpK614dMuWoqD-fA6jAQFWyRNIoHViSuYB__93Lun4IJOuYALYqGiCbB/s320/aDSC07648.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From there we trekked up to the World Peace Pagoda on a hill that looks over the surrounding area. It was about a one and a half hour climb in nice weather. Just as we reached the top rain started, not too hard, just enough to make us put our jackets on. But it paused later to give us a great rainbow. (pics: Travis approaching the World Peace Pagoda, Emily/Travis in front of the World Peace Pagoda, rainbow on the rainy trip down, looking down on Travis and the trail and the valley below)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwu0dH6Tccw3Lg0MiIeISTu-vziEzX5H-cApek2QJkpNb719UB2DBYxHW1X_bBldMe5csU1Ee_DmT32TuCtPqFLtLjftxOwMiuwluyhYwVQ6Y4bVbKhWhe-L48pVQswMsIGxaLm90lPZnK/s1600-h/aDSC07656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224022757959861090" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwu0dH6Tccw3Lg0MiIeISTu-vziEzX5H-cApek2QJkpNb719UB2DBYxHW1X_bBldMe5csU1Ee_DmT32TuCtPqFLtLjftxOwMiuwluyhYwVQ6Y4bVbKhWhe-L48pVQswMsIGxaLm90lPZnK/s320/aDSC07656.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFbRIDxXrLQ6EIddec9-7kfc2btYuyRC2JBHNayqEul4OirYD67mQwpeKgzNOi2ObB6ueIfwS32Y4DSae2RV2cOMuu_R2E6ECmDguoLhCmuwK-L7GUKCth3rKUVCrP_J3xV8c2iM2S3EF/s1600-h/aDSC07660.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224022763655257410" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFbRIDxXrLQ6EIddec9-7kfc2btYuyRC2JBHNayqEul4OirYD67mQwpeKgzNOi2ObB6ueIfwS32Y4DSae2RV2cOMuu_R2E6ECmDguoLhCmuwK-L7GUKCth3rKUVCrP_J3xV8c2iM2S3EF/s320/aDSC07660.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGJU7yvjkH27ZEd8aUi0pcl29-d8INAugIdMsMqjxDLYqyYWi85X56lakFeBMdb2vZJTL37Qi0SEgzxU0YEMAngXTuUTrTwgY45TCT3ueHoU74UWPHvlqiug8UuuiF9V4T0qYziLPqTfC/s1600-h/aDSC07664.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224022762188002498" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGJU7yvjkH27ZEd8aUi0pcl29-d8INAugIdMsMqjxDLYqyYWi85X56lakFeBMdb2vZJTL37Qi0SEgzxU0YEMAngXTuUTrTwgY45TCT3ueHoU74UWPHvlqiug8UuuiF9V4T0qYziLPqTfC/s320/aDSC07664.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqBJjN4mvfwzC4qBM7QZ0ekC1CvbejpW6YNMZNjSW9dKUxPcE1-DdDyNeHfoCoWk3vxuJH-1TddQUDUSRsXJyUsk_kvReVws0GQGyqdWAANOwXEAJyfR4VQJCuR0lszbuQxriNWrJbyoU/s1600-h/aDSC07672.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224022767522078578" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqBJjN4mvfwzC4qBM7QZ0ekC1CvbejpW6YNMZNjSW9dKUxPcE1-DdDyNeHfoCoWk3vxuJH-1TddQUDUSRsXJyUsk_kvReVws0GQGyqdWAANOwXEAJyfR4VQJCuR0lszbuQxriNWrJbyoU/s320/aDSC07672.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />That afternoon the monsoon clouds parted for about one hour, and in that period the peak of Machhapuchhare (Fish Tail Mountain) was visible, as it usually would be in the dry season. It was incredible to see a peak of the Himalayan range poking above the city. We snapped so many photos and couldn’t take our eyes off the snow-capped peak. It was that much more special because we weren’t supposed to be able to see it in this season. (pics: our glimpse of Machhapuchhare)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gHGP-6Kpo11owh1y22eJs6EK0MTFH_td1cKMo3wNjpYME26Ri0n_raZY5I1NFjVAibvziIkmeBPs-3yH74DdQsLD0T2T_G8DOWUxXOjvYuonKsjrhwq2zA4GK-ogyQHa83rIzgNQ4pvp/s1600-h/aDSC07684.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224022774000808642" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gHGP-6Kpo11owh1y22eJs6EK0MTFH_td1cKMo3wNjpYME26Ri0n_raZY5I1NFjVAibvziIkmeBPs-3yH74DdQsLD0T2T_G8DOWUxXOjvYuonKsjrhwq2zA4GK-ogyQHa83rIzgNQ4pvp/s320/aDSC07684.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the afternoon we met with our guide, Deepak for our two-day trek to Panchase. He seemed like a great guy and gave us information on the trail we’ll be traveling on, and the place we’ll spend the night.<br /><br /></div><div><strong>44th-3rd in Panchase 7/4<br /><br /></strong>In the morning our guide met us at our hotel and together we walked to the bus stand to grab a bus to the trailhead about 1.5 hours away. Just as we got to the bus station a cab came by and offered to take us for an incredible price (he had to go that way anyway.) So we said sure and jumped in, despite just walking about an hour across town to the bus stand.<br /><br />The trail was never really steep, and we had great weather until the last bit of the hike when it started to rain a bit. There were views over the surrounding valleys and mountains. We passed through one village on the way up to Panchase, but passed many people on the trail. As we got higher up, the mountain became more jungle-like, and we saw more and more water buffalo. Visibility as we got up was less than 100 meters as clouds rolled in.<br />(pics: Emily pointing to where we will hike up to, myself on the Panchase trek, water buffalo inspecting Emily up on the mountain, clouds roll in as we got closer to the peak)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS6zjgx9LtZEE6jhRw14zK7lPq6H4TMANTbZhKYvl4e4DCu9JEeS5zQg3BSdHs9EMYaH8wkzhU3taCJIMKEwxvHg87gR-yEIYMoNDjWibwH0QPH1Ldls26tOorWWv8KdpDzV-Ta4AVD97/s1600-h/aDSC07705.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942575219408674" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS6zjgx9LtZEE6jhRw14zK7lPq6H4TMANTbZhKYvl4e4DCu9JEeS5zQg3BSdHs9EMYaH8wkzhU3taCJIMKEwxvHg87gR-yEIYMoNDjWibwH0QPH1Ldls26tOorWWv8KdpDzV-Ta4AVD97/s320/aDSC07705.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYIWzV6EEz6VTRrSykcSSTQrs7Q9s5_nG1QbPT30TlSHlM2mQ5ElTEH4eDafjAsIjruL6TbzUQbgG3tNLtoy4A2bwIKnxwtDmNoc8dUjcHxezxFqE3HTOWP5KmOyNE1z2UVbLBx7uuFXK/s1600-h/aDSC07713.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942302812135330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYIWzV6EEz6VTRrSykcSSTQrs7Q9s5_nG1QbPT30TlSHlM2mQ5ElTEH4eDafjAsIjruL6TbzUQbgG3tNLtoy4A2bwIKnxwtDmNoc8dUjcHxezxFqE3HTOWP5KmOyNE1z2UVbLBx7uuFXK/s320/aDSC07713.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjpqYGw_snhuEq6cO-pnhfoHILaUQHUzNo7Siwk170VEO54gxhoWYsz1iEijYFELHtSzPeLQ3seB4TF6O8HxQfBCkTXhX4hWH-4JPgNVNs92CSMuM5mNDC89f0-_qTOF0V-gFaqKUWXOV/s1600-h/aDSC07741.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942299275754402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjpqYGw_snhuEq6cO-pnhfoHILaUQHUzNo7Siwk170VEO54gxhoWYsz1iEijYFELHtSzPeLQ3seB4TF6O8HxQfBCkTXhX4hWH-4JPgNVNs92CSMuM5mNDC89f0-_qTOF0V-gFaqKUWXOV/s320/aDSC07741.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXddph0THI_OpM2R6n5HvNKI-6TrcQnYzmCVhj4dR3sB2FNZAlQVoRcVPuImDOcNwfKhYOHm_aaEGHTTpHaeseVNI2PRDWuNkIQxsu5Unqrpyn_5G8ssy8H-3G748ujzC36UoKdl1eHlgJ/s1600-h/aDSC07735.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942296179216946" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXddph0THI_OpM2R6n5HvNKI-6TrcQnYzmCVhj4dR3sB2FNZAlQVoRcVPuImDOcNwfKhYOHm_aaEGHTTpHaeseVNI2PRDWuNkIQxsu5Unqrpyn_5G8ssy8H-3G748ujzC36UoKdl1eHlgJ/s320/aDSC07735.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />One thing we had to watch out for the whole way was leeches. We were warned that there are a lot during this season, and sure enough, I finished the day pulling fifteen off my clothing, luckily none ever got to my skin. One got Deepak and he had to bandage the spot where blood was leaking.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5P0NwmyG3egyrXZsADUb7EZGLtJkQz42k9F9SYAj9lTuUyMOwsWVeP7Oil51w7Um4V45LMzHQkxBxApsGGKS92PCaRpS2E9w_WjT__m07Ay1mOELX1EzHurL62lSro5R0P_iwXe_uo7C/s1600-h/aDSC07776.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942292105054210" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5P0NwmyG3egyrXZsADUb7EZGLtJkQz42k9F9SYAj9lTuUyMOwsWVeP7Oil51w7Um4V45LMzHQkxBxApsGGKS92PCaRpS2E9w_WjT__m07Ay1mOELX1EzHurL62lSro5R0P_iwXe_uo7C/s320/aDSC07776.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pics: leech on my shorts, leech trying to grab someone from a plastic chair)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesUVkT3xUs2jHNLHSYPi4jn2Y2z4zJvSToh4FREO1_2MbwS4bjXpyrPLe6d7NEjVE5Zg6G5RtM6wWdlsl4Dr0EwSUgahfAwwXRAhAP1DhcSrNKpA9hJUZqyA0jV357rpgnmNC6KjgMjr_/s1600-h/aDSC07760.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223942293403134162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesUVkT3xUs2jHNLHSYPi4jn2Y2z4zJvSToh4FREO1_2MbwS4bjXpyrPLe6d7NEjVE5Zg6G5RtM6wWdlsl4Dr0EwSUgahfAwwXRAhAP1DhcSrNKpA9hJUZqyA0jV357rpgnmNC6KjgMjr_/s320/aDSC07760.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We stayed at a teahouse close to the peak of Panchase. It rained hard from the moment we arrived, so there were no views. We played cards, backgammon, and Uno. Dinner was rice and lentils, some chicken, and a variety of curried vegetables. We slept very well, very tired from the hike.</div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>44th-4th in Panchase 7/5<br /></strong></div><br /><div>Today is 10 months!</div><br /><div>After a breakfast of millet pancakes, we hiked to the peak of Panchase, one hour extra of hiking from the teahouse we’d stopped at. Deepak was great to do this with us, considering he knew we wouldn’t see any views, but still led us up. At the top there were some temples, a lookout, and many prayer flags. Visibility less than 50 meters. The way down from there was a bit slippery as the rain had battered it all night. We had to take the same trail from yesterday back as the other route we had planned to take was apparently very bad due to recent rainstorms. (pics: myself and the 50 meters of visibility at the to of Panchase, Travis in front of temple on the top of Panchase, Travis and the one village we pass through, Travis/our guide Deepak/myself/Emily after the trek was finished)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HP6ztrcp1NCdvbzmNViCtudgoNaUELY7ONLoDiKw44fj8Ap7JwWIM6taYVMd28P_MP1aCz4yRAYVPiXYCZ5onG6k2RGBP0ASPg84YfPSK-qkhLCeyVWpPzt8w3ZgCa48__D43GtbpbB3/s1600-h/aDSC07765.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223940323393539682" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HP6ztrcp1NCdvbzmNViCtudgoNaUELY7ONLoDiKw44fj8Ap7JwWIM6taYVMd28P_MP1aCz4yRAYVPiXYCZ5onG6k2RGBP0ASPg84YfPSK-qkhLCeyVWpPzt8w3ZgCa48__D43GtbpbB3/s320/aDSC07765.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3HkJ1ssTNLNBYZGJeF3qifolqe8sLq-naoBlBmQmPFgwUlUZ2Q0lCkJx8bWmNKy9zp5K1uUf7skDGI2lVWrF9NBmi4Z7H-T4Mo8sdNyt8votqTML5eEy_-GtQZzHJZS9PRgJMoaGNJjL/s1600-h/aDSC07772.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223940327773248962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3HkJ1ssTNLNBYZGJeF3qifolqe8sLq-naoBlBmQmPFgwUlUZ2Q0lCkJx8bWmNKy9zp5K1uUf7skDGI2lVWrF9NBmi4Z7H-T4Mo8sdNyt8votqTML5eEy_-GtQZzHJZS9PRgJMoaGNJjL/s320/aDSC07772.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXP5dyQrAlL1X_iM601nDzXOr4FKMezD2eRUGcyE_NTpzQLsf1exvrfKm7kxGyWU83ZAIBfg44RvtK_VVlqBMBje4WLnLMQgMvDTULiW0TFpNTMHoXWy78KTbzTgziIBNOjXbrK0prJHqE/s1600-h/aDSC07780.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223941224486908914" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXP5dyQrAlL1X_iM601nDzXOr4FKMezD2eRUGcyE_NTpzQLsf1exvrfKm7kxGyWU83ZAIBfg44RvtK_VVlqBMBje4WLnLMQgMvDTULiW0TFpNTMHoXWy78KTbzTgziIBNOjXbrK0prJHqE/s320/aDSC07780.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPo974xd545J4C8OQpJ2vhHU7JkdCqNlRs4ETYLlL6Y1wuKlFbVOovkC-LJatmM7DYBWnPB1-UA5wqM1Ye4MgNi4TOrag62dTa9fhMxdrclwPhHJ-i5rzkZd0Ic6ol6SYfX_Pd94bU5l_/s1600-h/aDSC07753.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ8xfMJiL3vdK3wCHnGrQ1STms1adYF8YQHBH1ZTuj4IUFPH_OY-u9M7BJzzue9bu-1mMaD_nmeEha3wLAgARv7AYo_Pzk7BXXym0I4T55t7GpC_Q9nb9iVQ8prEctOJIXrsiJDgyBtg8/s1600-h/aDSC07781.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223940325055663634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ8xfMJiL3vdK3wCHnGrQ1STms1adYF8YQHBH1ZTuj4IUFPH_OY-u9M7BJzzue9bu-1mMaD_nmeEha3wLAgARv7AYo_Pzk7BXXym0I4T55t7GpC_Q9nb9iVQ8prEctOJIXrsiJDgyBtg8/s320/aDSC07781.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We got a bus back to town, showered, and ate a good dinner. Travis and Emily did some gift shopping while I got some Bangladeshi flag patches made.<br /><br />In Pokhara, the few days we stayed there, I had several sandwiches from the nearby sandwich shop, and had several baked goods too, such as cinnamon buns. Nice to have these treats after a long time.</div><br /><div><strong>44th-5th on the Seti River 7/6<br /><br /></strong>Again we got up early today, to be picked up by the company we had arranged to go rafting with. We had chosen to raft the Seti River, one of only two rivers that are raftable in Nepal during the monsoon season. We had a 1.5 hour bus ride to where we would launch. In our group were three other girls from Germany and New Zealand.<br /><br />I was skeptical after they told us on the riverbank that our two day trip would only have 30 minutes of rafting the second day. I couldn’t fully understand the guide’s English, but he said something about dangerous water conditions. I thought they’d cut our trip short and hadn’t warned us beforehand, nor adjusted the price accordingly. Later I realized that the trip was naturally shorter. Typically eight hours of rafting in the dry season, our trip was down to five because the water was moving so quickly because of the high water levels. Even without paddling between rapids, we moved faster than we would in dry season paddling like mad. So our trip consisted of blasting through rapids then relaxing as the current took us quickly to the next one. It was a unique experience. So in fact, our trip was the normal distance, just in a shorter amount of time, that I thought was cool.<br />They told us to jump in to swim and the water was warm, but moving very fast. Quickly we were far from the raft, and I couldn’t get back to it without the assisting kayaker’s help. He was great at always picking all of us up. I was a bit skeptical of the trip as we clearly weren’t following the basic 3-boat rule, but there really wasn’t anything I could do about it. I saw one group rafting the river, just a raft and no kayaker with them. I’m sure during the low season the groups are larger, but now during monsoon, the companies will take what they can get and run whatever trip they can. (pics: Travis on the river, the scenery we rafted through - this shot is of the Trisuli, myself on the river, Emily on the river)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0g1iwzCo7t8RD8xOe9sxWKRGGOYn6lw9Kc2PCnQ9JpPiVGCeD5NP_AbXmyxd5Dc_zKiI0EpcxYKCT0e67b1nWz-mVpaE4liD22ibyYEC3kgOmmuGoMQ_PaVRSqnhHXvFTlGASnUJhakz/s1600-h/aDSC07807.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223939145014739618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0g1iwzCo7t8RD8xOe9sxWKRGGOYn6lw9Kc2PCnQ9JpPiVGCeD5NP_AbXmyxd5Dc_zKiI0EpcxYKCT0e67b1nWz-mVpaE4liD22ibyYEC3kgOmmuGoMQ_PaVRSqnhHXvFTlGASnUJhakz/s320/aDSC07807.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwfx4Bzd0wlgoK3u6ECYRxaLS8ID7ZvfkyOEiXy-VeVAvRvLViALRL4O4_FOMm_wCkUMJVi1ecawEfYMpyg3ZFKic-SZhq3VRWjY7eCCHNoxskL-99IAgi68v6p2gEqEdEiCLQYgtsbNHs/s1600-h/aDSC07813.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223938290501178466" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwfx4Bzd0wlgoK3u6ECYRxaLS8ID7ZvfkyOEiXy-VeVAvRvLViALRL4O4_FOMm_wCkUMJVi1ecawEfYMpyg3ZFKic-SZhq3VRWjY7eCCHNoxskL-99IAgi68v6p2gEqEdEiCLQYgtsbNHs/s320/aDSC07813.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7fTKX4LpD62FytyiP7nVivt4O-qOKQOfaqGuX2uLpA-udOa_rvdOkkmELIG6g6-Cb-GC_zz2PldfXRDCQ7b7rAVNRrbKCRzZVIkMQHHkC3HhqTkklycmuVBiZWoxhRv5nXxH04bH24S1/s1600-h/aDSC07809.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223938295749203506" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7fTKX4LpD62FytyiP7nVivt4O-qOKQOfaqGuX2uLpA-udOa_rvdOkkmELIG6g6-Cb-GC_zz2PldfXRDCQ7b7rAVNRrbKCRzZVIkMQHHkC3HhqTkklycmuVBiZWoxhRv5nXxH04bH24S1/s320/aDSC07809.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9Cn2lbErwch4CXj7Z563BBKtmjZAuJxFqqvjgz6kNTeL63wxmZg4t_2L6MoBQK1Tlh5YnNr31emsaTlM9LqUQJGSgcNj4mlzltPIorGgbhQ5wMCN9_9O1_bbxb0s-dOuRJxWPCZ2pzmK/s1600-h/aDSC07808.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223938292501994066" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9Cn2lbErwch4CXj7Z563BBKtmjZAuJxFqqvjgz6kNTeL63wxmZg4t_2L6MoBQK1Tlh5YnNr31emsaTlM9LqUQJGSgcNj4mlzltPIorGgbhQ5wMCN9_9O1_bbxb0s-dOuRJxWPCZ2pzmK/s320/aDSC07808.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Our day of rafting ended just after our river, the Seti, merged with the Trisuli. The Trisuli’s waters were much colder, and much dirtier. It was neat to feel the instant temperature change. Our campsite was just after the confluence, some old tents that didn’t breathe very well in the monsoon heat. A sweaty night of sleep.</div><br /><div><strong>44th-6th on the Seti River 7/7<br /><br /></strong>To supplement the measly half hour of rafting we had, they brought us to a mountain stream that fed into the river for all us to play in the cascading waters. The guide told us to slide down the streambed, which he called canyoning. The half hour of rafting was very tame, a simple float down river. After getting out, they fed us lunch, and got us on a bus passing by to Kathmandu. This was the most cramped bus I’d ever been on. The three of us got the back row, Emily in the middle with her bags on her lap. Travis and I sat on either side behind the rows of seats. The rows were much too small for our legs to have any way of fitting, so we sat sideways for the four hour bumpy trip. We were all pretty glad to arrive in Kathmandu.<br /><br />Emily found her friend John on the street, a guy she met in Kolkata and also ran into in Pokhara. We hung out with John for the remainder of our stay in Kathmandu and he even transferred to our hotel on our last night.<br /><br />We stayed in Thamel, the tourist area of Kathmandu, with endless restaurants, gift shops, bars, and bakeries. We had dinner at a roof top restaurant, and later tried an alcoholic drink called tongba made from fermented millet. They serve the millet in a giant jug, and you pour hot water over it. Then sip. We each poured once, and although you can go again and again, once was enough.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRvV_sMqrleYNBKk5D8a2qwrQVdcrPfgloLkiRvmz80maXaqFDTs0QlDbHjX8Duf3lkpPHywWKkL7a3d3g_9Y6GrFATAtZk-DQXRsn7mmOw1CBMAsohzhvgGsqTDbno4VfggJi6uf5P7A/s1600-h/aDSC07819.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223938280186061666" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRvV_sMqrleYNBKk5D8a2qwrQVdcrPfgloLkiRvmz80maXaqFDTs0QlDbHjX8Duf3lkpPHywWKkL7a3d3g_9Y6GrFATAtZk-DQXRsn7mmOw1CBMAsohzhvgGsqTDbno4VfggJi6uf5P7A/s320/aDSC07819.JPG" border="0" /></a> (pics: Emily unsure what to make of our beverage choice, Travis pondering the tongba)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjp91NqJpo4HLxvtZEGrE-9bexgO1kKdIhz34B8UsASQQIdO0wrz3NmN7Mu9MNDqqov31q-6udfsHxeGpKq7vK1u0h9ryXA5s28ocBkphIegpB7Lzfdavpst1rRgNHgqAo9-IBQPGrRGo/s1600-h/aDSC07820.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223938288409535618" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjp91NqJpo4HLxvtZEGrE-9bexgO1kKdIhz34B8UsASQQIdO0wrz3NmN7Mu9MNDqqov31q-6udfsHxeGpKq7vK1u0h9ryXA5s28ocBkphIegpB7Lzfdavpst1rRgNHgqAo9-IBQPGrRGo/s320/aDSC07820.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>44th-7th in Kathmandu 7/8</strong><br /><br />Today we walked from our hotel to Swayambhunath Temple, nicknamed the monkey temple, just west of the city. It was a 45 minute walk to the base of the hill that the temple sits on. From there you have to go up a very steep staircase. The nickname is earned by the many monkeys which live on the hill, and which like to terrorize the visitors; both Travis and Emily got grabbed at. The view from the temple allowed you to see all out over the Kathmandu Valley. The temple’s main whitewashed stupa is surrounded by some Hindu shrines and other smaller Buddhist stupas. (pics: Travis ascending the steep staircase to Swayambhunath Temple, myself/Emily in front of the stupa, monkeys hanging around the hill and temple, Swayambhunath temple complex, Emily/Travis in front of the Kathmandu Valley)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu9bAHUlbDSkYnnfnuxtrSxTwB5rvqjo043OqKgNeUkh_usfCQZr70czs596_SzApz1oRr71BVi7w-m8GsKznZ7JSj-OEwSrNKHy4KU7QDBQxLaEnmvVMPY8ViGKpKZGJIXgkUweEBRJa6/s1600-h/aDSC07835.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935897096416642" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu9bAHUlbDSkYnnfnuxtrSxTwB5rvqjo043OqKgNeUkh_usfCQZr70czs596_SzApz1oRr71BVi7w-m8GsKznZ7JSj-OEwSrNKHy4KU7QDBQxLaEnmvVMPY8ViGKpKZGJIXgkUweEBRJa6/s320/aDSC07835.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdTp-y62eWi8kJooC_VHu0-aYe-BXQcNcDUTuxZhRiwxDgELAS_GCObwgmpuR01ZYPiKns2fNjsukHaf-TtmB-IULvN0Kt5nGlgw439tP2fo0-9TI9cENk1r7AxhEcPbgtQf8qgxQvgN6/s1600-h/aDSC07854.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935906127820914" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdTp-y62eWi8kJooC_VHu0-aYe-BXQcNcDUTuxZhRiwxDgELAS_GCObwgmpuR01ZYPiKns2fNjsukHaf-TtmB-IULvN0Kt5nGlgw439tP2fo0-9TI9cENk1r7AxhEcPbgtQf8qgxQvgN6/s320/aDSC07854.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6YuWyap97s4yJTFAHOsNYpmJcdj9Po-JwHyI0SQYG8qv4QOhM4MN28kcW9_7rRk92IBlyb_SHWT89nS-WsNXCsvYHdx3gJmEoUcmzoDvy-CNPAoGOaiK7jlaBoztJ1sjRhs3q1zG4ZHU/s1600-h/aDSC07859.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935904962258482" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6YuWyap97s4yJTFAHOsNYpmJcdj9Po-JwHyI0SQYG8qv4QOhM4MN28kcW9_7rRk92IBlyb_SHWT89nS-WsNXCsvYHdx3gJmEoUcmzoDvy-CNPAoGOaiK7jlaBoztJ1sjRhs3q1zG4ZHU/s320/aDSC07859.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLubUz00UbGmdY2qiwd8h0Ob2IpfBRCgZnAx5h_fP9qTRrmHadtKYvnEzZEuF_P1iQUDtOBbTW6yrUfMnYMlZ3Ik1Ti8enz3O33sV1hWAsUU-p6keS1rrMjlHiJmt9qJzGs5TKqfC1awol/s1600-h/aDSC07840.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935895783789074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLubUz00UbGmdY2qiwd8h0Ob2IpfBRCgZnAx5h_fP9qTRrmHadtKYvnEzZEuF_P1iQUDtOBbTW6yrUfMnYMlZ3Ik1Ti8enz3O33sV1hWAsUU-p6keS1rrMjlHiJmt9qJzGs5TKqfC1awol/s320/aDSC07840.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik15BAt-MCXd4ohm3cpAVp5TMlvvir09oJRsGSJLu5sRMSI2hmKyNdLUfP6aoLGc-BcRQjJg2TuygVQcMDgwJVdyG_iBLnOzZXMnNGXjAx66YEXr0_-DAqg4ItzU5qxh4XGQNyhEpg3NqY/s1600-h/aDSC07849.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935901244887106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik15BAt-MCXd4ohm3cpAVp5TMlvvir09oJRsGSJLu5sRMSI2hmKyNdLUfP6aoLGc-BcRQjJg2TuygVQcMDgwJVdyG_iBLnOzZXMnNGXjAx66YEXr0_-DAqg4ItzU5qxh4XGQNyhEpg3NqY/s320/aDSC07849.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From there we walked to Durbar Square, the center of Kathmandu, where the empire that ruled the region governed from. The king used to live in his palace here, and also one of the buildings houses one of Nepal’s living goddesses <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumari">Kumari Devi</a>. We roamed this area for awhile, sitting on the steps of the some of the temples and watching as people passed by. There was a lot to look at, neat details everywhere as each temple was completely different up close. (pics: house of the Kumari Devi, Durbar Square of Kathmandu with Travis wandering through it, myself in Durbar Square, view of Durbar Square from above from our restaurant)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYzR2g4Zs_3vjLWvKuM-Xn4CdqNMO9zFvJppoGRm9sVBqnLaR19pVMBQig7pulaM0_kOIbkBMblvZcdnB-zlv6n6fj_jws4GUVLIqYa225WldSQWRCHJfksuXDMjlayPtOkUA8y3aWs3_/s1600-h/aDSC07864.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223936455794308370" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYzR2g4Zs_3vjLWvKuM-Xn4CdqNMO9zFvJppoGRm9sVBqnLaR19pVMBQig7pulaM0_kOIbkBMblvZcdnB-zlv6n6fj_jws4GUVLIqYa225WldSQWRCHJfksuXDMjlayPtOkUA8y3aWs3_/s320/aDSC07864.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTa81ulDK2nJ0r2SABmtAq2oFaQGHQalq4HBFczR9-kc-ZEQmXKhH2mqPZlcQFJkDn2bVxmKejVKBMGAtfsWELWvwkLbvsRfY6TzQS15KdwZ96rAqZdcT1K6FjGh3unf6tUrd2cVOGt1j5/s1600-h/aDSC07883.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935088591422994" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTa81ulDK2nJ0r2SABmtAq2oFaQGHQalq4HBFczR9-kc-ZEQmXKhH2mqPZlcQFJkDn2bVxmKejVKBMGAtfsWELWvwkLbvsRfY6TzQS15KdwZ96rAqZdcT1K6FjGh3unf6tUrd2cVOGt1j5/s320/aDSC07883.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhksSGM2g7IsCDmd9Y14Ld8gW2mv4YCviygtWAZOdjDkbV42C1TNopcTc7W484rP7peLHuerGs_F05G7IRitruWJuXT7o7OSB_oHKZPpGFM4nJnR5B99Z1ldUNysphVwlErr-TgdyAZBBS1/s1600-h/aDSC07895.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935090795498914" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhksSGM2g7IsCDmd9Y14Ld8gW2mv4YCviygtWAZOdjDkbV42C1TNopcTc7W484rP7peLHuerGs_F05G7IRitruWJuXT7o7OSB_oHKZPpGFM4nJnR5B99Z1ldUNysphVwlErr-TgdyAZBBS1/s320/aDSC07895.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGWIIPZwYAq_xjUdCXJ__jvEz9BKSC5Y5Ora_5Zl7LZMlJ8dekQ4ajRKtChe4UR0siJFvry29OLF4ukyRE7V9IEXU3YMFGk6BDTsLrCT82W8J_MS_zF25D64OdO4xmyHGlYyVV2jRb0c7F/s1600-h/aDSC07901.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935093005552738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGWIIPZwYAq_xjUdCXJ__jvEz9BKSC5Y5Ora_5Zl7LZMlJ8dekQ4ajRKtChe4UR0siJFvry29OLF4ukyRE7V9IEXU3YMFGk6BDTsLrCT82W8J_MS_zF25D64OdO4xmyHGlYyVV2jRb0c7F/s320/aDSC07901.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We had lunch at a roof top restaurant next to Durbar square. From there we went back to the hotel, where Travis spent the rest of the day. Emily, John, and I walked north in Kathmandu to see what was there, with a rough aim to see the US embassy. We must’ve passed it on our long walk, and ultimately took a bus back down south. They got off and I continued on alone. I got off in front of Parliament, and began a circular walk around the middle of the city, just exploring. Saw the national stadium, a few complexes of temples, the road to the airport, the main city park, the city’s largest tower, the city’s biggest mall, and a fake McDonalds. I had a snack of Nepali (specifically Newari) food, and then headed back to meet my friends at the hotel. We had dinner with a friend Travis knows from Lehigh who is currently in Nepal.(pics: Nepal's parliament, Kathmandu's main city park and mall area)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXYLF9m3hiNspYyFsbWdWoAV6d0owhBxqPIJYGswCwCuuPN8gRQlSj7T79ntz_h-5vP9bHhKSRzJuQfyy76shdS3g3J34qTk0a2zrDvbU-Z8jQEb0EW7TfvZNoZV4laC9oCW-TjDJF77G/s1600-h/aDSC07914.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935104695329330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXYLF9m3hiNspYyFsbWdWoAV6d0owhBxqPIJYGswCwCuuPN8gRQlSj7T79ntz_h-5vP9bHhKSRzJuQfyy76shdS3g3J34qTk0a2zrDvbU-Z8jQEb0EW7TfvZNoZV4laC9oCW-TjDJF77G/s320/aDSC07914.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd_olZYZezi4VKS0WxkYhNmVe012lE8I0Ml1Pj_obHlP9azZcr2DjSSayWBpuHURIzboMEkyZ_25wdk8TT7f10hRxxNcwXPXucJ7lCFptju7KWyXTFFNq85uAcPz_YQ3Btgq0rxL-ouYX/s1600-h/aDSC07927.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223935101785133394" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd_olZYZezi4VKS0WxkYhNmVe012lE8I0Ml1Pj_obHlP9azZcr2DjSSayWBpuHURIzboMEkyZ_25wdk8TT7f10hRxxNcwXPXucJ7lCFptju7KWyXTFFNq85uAcPz_YQ3Btgq0rxL-ouYX/s320/aDSC07927.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My favorite part of Kathmandu was how the city seemed so small, easy to get around. I liked seeing the temples, shrines, and pagodas at many of the intersections. It was also a well designed city in terms of transportation. The bus stops had signs saying where the buses go, and there seemed to be excellent traffic flow. </div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-49961877285779229942008-07-15T20:12:00.026+06:002008-07-19T18:56:03.499+06:00Week 43: Emily and Travis arrive, but so does the monsoon, so we bolt for Nepal<strong>43rd-1st in Dhaka 6/25<br /></strong><br />Today was my last day to work at BUET before friends start coming tomorrow. I gave Shegufta some data sheets that I simply wanted entered into excel, no analysis, just needed them digitized. She had a bit of a hard time reading my hand writing, but after she grew accustomed to it, she seemed to work a bit faster.<br />I spent the time loading data into the database, but realizing I didn’t have my flash drive, I’d have to rely on them being saved on BUET computers to keep it all. Also gave copies to Shegufta to save for me on her home computer. I always seem to forget critical pieces at critical times.<br /><br />I met up with Farabi at his house. We headed straight out to Banani’s Road 11, a pretty hip place with lots of neat restaurants. We headed over to the Moo Barn, a new Tex-Mex restaurant. I had high hopes for it, really wanting it to be a delicious cheesy Mexican feast. Far from. Nachos were a bit better than I’ve had before here but still not enough cheese.<br />We then got some gelato at Club Gelato. We also roamed the road for a bit, checking out a few stores and restaurants. I showed him Sub City and was looking to prove to him that they never have anything they say they have, including turkey. But today I was gladly proven wrong. The owner said they have all the ingredients now, including the turkey breast, as he said “just like you’d see in Subway in America.”<br /><br />From there we went back home. Going to Banani and back I took Farabi on the #6 bus, his first time bus riding. Showing him the ropes.<br /><br />Back at home we played cards until dinner, where we stuffed ourselves so full, and then ate mango. His aunt is a great cook and always seems to have a delicious snack ready for us. I spent the night there so I could be in Gulshan for an early morning data collection at Gulshan-1. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpaiANsvWeIWhV0WhyphenhyphenWKBC7dvMikc0K7dO_RDs_pScJ_UDXV-YIluL9bd_sKth-zxGBAKx6_9RkbSrO-BufFsu0twEFVtA5Er0z7QtfZz6a-2NLBSmeY9XlxGiuJwHntYibJkkRwAQCHs/s1600-h/aDSC07480.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div><div><div><strong>43rd-2nd in Dhaka 6/26<br /></strong><br />Woke up at Farabi’s and headed out to collect data. On a whim I asked him last night if he wanted to help collect data. He surprisingly said he would. So I taught him the basics of how to do the curb side data collection, orientated him on which bus was which since he couldn’t read the Bengali names, and then watched as he practiced a bit. He was feeling good, so I wished him luck as I headed down the road to a different bus stop to collect similar data.<br /><br />I did my hour of data collection, making friends with the bus ticket sellers. This also included a photo session when they saw me using a camera to snap shots of the buses. When I came back to Farabi, he was confident with what he collected, and said he had a good time. Said it really helped to recognize buses and understand more about the bus system, just standing and watching it for awhile. (pics: ticket sellers who befriended me during my data collection; one of the buses I am collecting data on, the #6 Banani-Motijheel bus)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGXzIfjIY1zzFZPgBRqNqU-WyNFdi54O4T9dU6K2a7LLOa36SXHG4EN8nEv6Evyd_1zFvr0RakU-_eV5Jc9cd0Wb6AtZ9x9F8t2f2Fu09IXcNY2RHyhF_gRUmo0H8_JUeiVnqNJMYE0k2/s1600-h/aDSC07337.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223255940650397954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGXzIfjIY1zzFZPgBRqNqU-WyNFdi54O4T9dU6K2a7LLOa36SXHG4EN8nEv6Evyd_1zFvr0RakU-_eV5Jc9cd0Wb6AtZ9x9F8t2f2Fu09IXcNY2RHyhF_gRUmo0H8_JUeiVnqNJMYE0k2/s320/aDSC07337.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEJ6GPqXuuPvjGbewEI3wIyAet9U5iflxc5e3g7XIbkDV8gbRgtivxEIo8YuV4l3ZcwrQtrY6kscp1POox2Pgt-QcjNodJfy4oK1sEOkYnyf3iCZs_hUteA6tG0Tu4grZ3NaW_gz4NOwo/s1600-h/aDSC07355.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258604033932914" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEJ6GPqXuuPvjGbewEI3wIyAet9U5iflxc5e3g7XIbkDV8gbRgtivxEIo8YuV4l3ZcwrQtrY6kscp1POox2Pgt-QcjNodJfy4oK1sEOkYnyf3iCZs_hUteA6tG0Tu4grZ3NaW_gz4NOwo/s320/aDSC07355.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>We headed back to his house and ate a breakfast of parota and fried eggs, and then played cards for awhile. We went back to Banani for lunch, back to Sub City. They had the turkey they promised. Although the sub came without oil and vinegar, which I really wanted, the sandwich was pretty delicious, and was worth the high price I paid. (pics: Farabi playing the card game Shed with his cousin, Farabi inside SubCity with signs for Quizno's and Subway above him even though those items aren't actually served there <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5yyAvUzPfvoFrEu34DXxcCY8_w3FjOjLcpmmeoCKe4Y-9dBcMroBY1WdWyoO8D0aJU8wmILHty5ly81kKznf0_yfJUN6Np8SgIZkFIS4ah9FpUNxr8kz4vZkSauBa7gSlf_8Deb_K29V/s1600-h/aDSC07359.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223255946956582002" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5yyAvUzPfvoFrEu34DXxcCY8_w3FjOjLcpmmeoCKe4Y-9dBcMroBY1WdWyoO8D0aJU8wmILHty5ly81kKznf0_yfJUN6Np8SgIZkFIS4ah9FpUNxr8kz4vZkSauBa7gSlf_8Deb_K29V/s320/aDSC07359.JPG" border="0" /></a>)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbsD34K6crWtcopP8LU17ZzuT5syzRBGHtYtVmOFU8IbhqVEv_cHDonlVDHN0IYCpKpxGnqpDGMqZt_zcgoDsXB0zpoKm6lYQ84EssBuG9nUv5OuT9TB5NoWxAcghieWKw2SUVefqcRlj/s1600-h/aDSC07363.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223255951212366482" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbsD34K6crWtcopP8LU17ZzuT5syzRBGHtYtVmOFU8IbhqVEv_cHDonlVDHN0IYCpKpxGnqpDGMqZt_zcgoDsXB0zpoKm6lYQ84EssBuG9nUv5OuT9TB5NoWxAcghieWKw2SUVefqcRlj/s320/aDSC07363.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I did my second data collection at 2:30 pm. It was really hot, and I kept standing in the shade because the sun was beating hard. But I got the data collected, and survived the heat. I came home and bought some vegetables and fish on the way for Moweena to cook up for a dinner for Emily and I.<br /><br />At 7:30pm I headed across town to pick up Emily at the bus office. When I got there, I inquired about the arrival time, and they told me not until after 9:30pm. So with an hour and a half to kill, I went and got a snack at a local restaurant. Ended being more of a meal, as I ordered a half chicken.<br /><br />Emily arrived just after 9:30. We hugged, smiled, and then quickly got a bus back to Jigatola before the buses stopped for the night. Fed Emily a dinner of rice and fish curry, and she enjoyed it, getting food she didn’t usually get in India.<br /></div><br /><div><strong>43rd-3rd in Dhaka 6/27</strong><br /><br />Today I took Emily around the Dhaka University campus area to show her the sights there. We saw many of the statues to the freedom fighters, the academic halls, and the canteen in which many of the language movement decisions were made by students. We stopped at the Teachers Students Center for a break, and then headed on to Shahid Minar where we spent a good amount of time watching other people there and looking up close at the monument. Then we meandered over to Curzon Hall and explored that historical part of the campus, sitting by the lake there for some time chatting. We looked at some crafts that are outside Curzon Hall and then walked through the Supreme Court’s complex, before taking a rickshaw to Baily Road for a late small lunch. (pics: Emily at Dhaka University, Emily in front of Shahid Minar, Curzon Hall on the campus of Dhaka University, Bangladesh's Supreme Court)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvo_UOK5eTnmA4hRE-OP-MgeImtoqwbubx5xHxemcUN5ML_bXMu_QNFQxuzeeRSoxiJkDFCxb7mRuESYZHo0U7BoxdvwVuBrrgXBiJJQjf2G3PVhmaX9MraQPsHyBWg47M6b2O_wfkIirW/s1600-h/aDSC07380.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223255953554646178" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvo_UOK5eTnmA4hRE-OP-MgeImtoqwbubx5xHxemcUN5ML_bXMu_QNFQxuzeeRSoxiJkDFCxb7mRuESYZHo0U7BoxdvwVuBrrgXBiJJQjf2G3PVhmaX9MraQPsHyBWg47M6b2O_wfkIirW/s320/aDSC07380.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VO0QOhQvKORxkXGsGhS6uZR7DgMgZu-_3wLW8dc-ZxbBvhev8aqyuM_0tRSsDvu1iWyCs6vcGZYa7zaHz2gEv_jWwH78_h-j3Y5I69RKBRE8WXgC0I73SVHzIrMDJOSdiSZ8AxGqvXh7/s1600-h/aDSC07386.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258148778424274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VO0QOhQvKORxkXGsGhS6uZR7DgMgZu-_3wLW8dc-ZxbBvhev8aqyuM_0tRSsDvu1iWyCs6vcGZYa7zaHz2gEv_jWwH78_h-j3Y5I69RKBRE8WXgC0I73SVHzIrMDJOSdiSZ8AxGqvXh7/s320/aDSC07386.JPG" border="0" /></a>.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvo_UOK5eTnmA4hRE-OP-MgeImtoqwbubx5xHxemcUN5ML_bXMu_QNFQxuzeeRSoxiJkDFCxb7mRuESYZHo0U7BoxdvwVuBrrgXBiJJQjf2G3PVhmaX9MraQPsHyBWg47M6b2O_wfkIirW/s1600-h/aDSC07380.JPG"></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhsm4WfzSnAIhxElyv5my4vfbOvxgerxYDbwoQTg5HqmeOe8kCLQapXZk54IIgzIGEOIoD7CjqpHXcF5rXZ_pG6L5JCirSaDhiXK2FgCer2dksRDCKPytvOI6QS-fSXTkT1rj_Xv8-pPH/s1600-h/aDSC07391.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258151847167138" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhsm4WfzSnAIhxElyv5my4vfbOvxgerxYDbwoQTg5HqmeOe8kCLQapXZk54IIgzIGEOIoD7CjqpHXcF5rXZ_pG6L5JCirSaDhiXK2FgCer2dksRDCKPytvOI6QS-fSXTkT1rj_Xv8-pPH/s320/aDSC07391.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia737QeTk7-W0QbvC6P6Xw5od0rJ4oC49fFUqbW6s2faSlOYmTtZVHba5Xhi96yo18R2tLLsjURNta0NfwdktYHUoqVy1iDFqBIR_3EoBEoV_UAx59twHOrejXrv44Lf2kFPBUOsAs4AzL/s1600-h/aDSC07399.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258153708112706" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia737QeTk7-W0QbvC6P6Xw5od0rJ4oC49fFUqbW6s2faSlOYmTtZVHba5Xhi96yo18R2tLLsjURNta0NfwdktYHUoqVy1iDFqBIR_3EoBEoV_UAx59twHOrejXrv44Lf2kFPBUOsAs4AzL/s320/aDSC07399.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />From there we took a bus to Bashundara City where we looked at each floor at the things we could buy, and also exchanged some money for her: Rupees to Taka. We also got a chance to go out on the balcony at Bashundara City, something I’ve never done before. And the Azan was giving the call to prayer at that exact time, so we looked over the bustling city while that happened. (pics: myself/Emily on the balcony of Bashundara City, Emily looking out over Dhaka from Bashundara City)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNeXpvj-3OP416Ji-PWuqO4vP5kZRhexTq1tk6McS4Tp178KClRK4aZmjvQj8D5VF_F8-tkry-06otcfb-VbYHrD2FUqsf-zJx6hTV_H3IIGMYMPy78B5jy_A6mnVj8WgKcd3nhHmD9c9/s1600-h/aDSC07405.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258155243012402" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNeXpvj-3OP416Ji-PWuqO4vP5kZRhexTq1tk6McS4Tp178KClRK4aZmjvQj8D5VF_F8-tkry-06otcfb-VbYHrD2FUqsf-zJx6hTV_H3IIGMYMPy78B5jy_A6mnVj8WgKcd3nhHmD9c9/s320/aDSC07405.JPG" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223258157938492018" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3jc9fW501-qeBTO7Za5pEKhR0iqpNVs_TGAgb-T7Lw5ks79qiSqlYxhmKFYIVTwYmHs4XtsYPZN-vVnMqdax561WjNU85Mg5d1FSM-HkKMJ2uT5gWB6Daln_wczY27HDU12bCTlAuqjA/s320/aDSC07409.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>We came home and had dinner at home again, the food that Moweena cooked in the morning.</div></div></div><br /><br /><p><strong>43rd-4th in Dhaka 6/28<br /></strong><br />Moweena came for the second day in a row at a very very early hour. All last week I wanted her to show up early so I could get to work on time, but now when I’m on a break with a guest here, she’s showing up earlier than the entire last month. Thus today for the first time I turned her away and told her to come back later, which she agreed to do.<br /><br />Today Emily and I met up with Farabi and Anisa at Gulistan to head down to explore Old Dhaka. Before they showed up to meet us, Emily and I circled the hockey stadium and found some cricket jerseys that looked really cool. I wanted to buy one, but we decided to come back later.<br />When Farabi and Anisa came, Anisa really wanted to go see where rickshaw art was sold, and so did Emily, so we headed down to Nazira Bazar where I brought my parents and Ben earlier. The girls were able to buy what they wanted, and then we started walking west across Old Dhaka. We zigged and zagged, looked into shops selling a variety of items, choosing our ways by what looked the most crowded and exciting. After a bit we stumbled upon the Star Mosque, a famous mosque in Old Dhaka that I’d recently read about, but had not see up to this point. I was glad to stumble upon it. At first I thought it was any ole’ pretty mosque, but then I noticed the fence had starts in it, and the fountain was a giant star as well, I knew immediately then what we’d stumbled upon. A little boy from the school next door offered to show us around inside, so we let him lead us around to see the mihrab and where everyone prays. (pics: Farabi/Emily/Anisa in a shop selling rickshaw art, Emily surrounded by a crowd somewhere amongst the streets of Old Dhaka, myself in front of the Star Mosque, Anisa/Emily/our guides/Farabi at the Star Mosque) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqUjd6Vhzmll4wm2bUblYrrKu5IgYJM5Ckp4KpxoqAIHJ_NejNRJAn6gs92uc-POKX5Tk1K0VhLyRhraOg2kHytd3nTnoTh8vBmfeELHkWlCyx-j5DKZvgKASJDWo2kj1h3T07CVbRgwX/s1600-h/aDSC07415.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269177228227906" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqUjd6Vhzmll4wm2bUblYrrKu5IgYJM5Ckp4KpxoqAIHJ_NejNRJAn6gs92uc-POKX5Tk1K0VhLyRhraOg2kHytd3nTnoTh8vBmfeELHkWlCyx-j5DKZvgKASJDWo2kj1h3T07CVbRgwX/s320/aDSC07415.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOSVmsihinixry35C38rs0lbFCWCSJGVUHpQLaGnJTCXHn69axwXaczJuU2Tm6mvKz9rCx__oCQlzaAeCSkRG538YLnYCEJpxhrEoHKOlKvY66JFA5BI7qZv54AQWNQyJTCUd_J_IxsG8/s1600-h/aDSC07418.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269176983952242" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOSVmsihinixry35C38rs0lbFCWCSJGVUHpQLaGnJTCXHn69axwXaczJuU2Tm6mvKz9rCx__oCQlzaAeCSkRG538YLnYCEJpxhrEoHKOlKvY66JFA5BI7qZv54AQWNQyJTCUd_J_IxsG8/s320/aDSC07418.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoIMLBfOmZUE-T7I6o6KOypjoaLNZ-FsP9nSFYc9CLhTO11vSh6QPdu2jZTQPzHgNzMcmDz0jXLm2M_gIACEaYTXh8ywujdF_waZ9-VYkm2BoJ8AvyS4ncMKkeN7Tn_Kluc_RsYsmzWO0h/s1600-h/aDSC07428.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269185000453330" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoIMLBfOmZUE-T7I6o6KOypjoaLNZ-FsP9nSFYc9CLhTO11vSh6QPdu2jZTQPzHgNzMcmDz0jXLm2M_gIACEaYTXh8ywujdF_waZ9-VYkm2BoJ8AvyS4ncMKkeN7Tn_Kluc_RsYsmzWO0h/s320/aDSC07428.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmPUe-lHXM2BWFMS9ZafxPzY0aiVKbcXm_5ZqY5rtQjfbAsded6xu4ql-vNkEMvBd1lQE86oIC7XIZq6WYr4a_J8hXviLD6SLU2t6vi0_VSVFzg7yT2AIXeeWi8zt9NyHfNCK-JEWZ4vC/s1600-h/aDSC07424.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223292724282621298" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmPUe-lHXM2BWFMS9ZafxPzY0aiVKbcXm_5ZqY5rtQjfbAsded6xu4ql-vNkEMvBd1lQE86oIC7XIZq6WYr4a_J8hXviLD6SLU2t6vi0_VSVFzg7yT2AIXeeWi8zt9NyHfNCK-JEWZ4vC/s320/aDSC07424.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>From there we wound our way and found ourselves in Maulavi and Chak Bazars. I hadn’t been here in many months, and it looked much different from the last time I came, which was during Ramadan when it was packed with Iftar food items. We started looking for a place to eat, and asked around for a good restaurant. We got pointed and pointed and until we came to Royal Restaurant, where we had some chicken roasts and naan.<br />We meandered over towards Lalbagh and ended up emerging right in front of the fort. Not wanting to take too much time, or pay the entry fee, we simply took pictures at the gate. Then we continued on, but saw that you could also sneak a peak inside the fort from the fort’s mosque’s entrance, so we did. It was a cheap man’s tour of Lalbagh Fort. We headed down to the river, passing by the wall of the fort from below, something I hadn’t done, and only seen from above. (pics: Emily/Anisa/Farabi snapping photos of Lalbagh Fort from between the gates, wandering in Maulavi Bazar, Farabi/Emily "inside" Lalbagh Fort, Lalbagh Fort's front side as seen from the street below)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKCN7yVdBuTSLLwLwOgrZqpKR2QSMHug8sUCjRao59lzoaH4nMZhES87shpOmAthj2udugk0FPlt-tthWqkqONHAcMrCrbqSMQfU5cTDMA_xMZtFyLju_Bpekcdyg5PHz1JGWkecIzWDf/s1600-h/aDSC07449.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269943669035522" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKCN7yVdBuTSLLwLwOgrZqpKR2QSMHug8sUCjRao59lzoaH4nMZhES87shpOmAthj2udugk0FPlt-tthWqkqONHAcMrCrbqSMQfU5cTDMA_xMZtFyLju_Bpekcdyg5PHz1JGWkecIzWDf/s320/aDSC07449.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY0RVngVpyyc8YrsgwGnzFroB1KCJmF0N4RERez0tPINiHnt5RnYslVYSeHECXxiWdWIFqUWYJLUwsRLlqa1gBObFReirQKRvHRmeJqvZVDqkCf6xPaM20s3vDxAtlf1k_3RgGqNO772R/s1600-h/aDSC07441.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269190179577426" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY0RVngVpyyc8YrsgwGnzFroB1KCJmF0N4RERez0tPINiHnt5RnYslVYSeHECXxiWdWIFqUWYJLUwsRLlqa1gBObFReirQKRvHRmeJqvZVDqkCf6xPaM20s3vDxAtlf1k_3RgGqNO772R/s320/aDSC07441.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFq_6HDI5yY8Gxis7RwGnFGVD3duFXiqqJD5H2oYhIOP6Qw4YZsnf9at1HCBBFYTBn9vuJmAm7gf6ZbQA2khNJIYODAhy90VIcnN95yw00c0uNQKM5R4N-3STY9yAxlxaW_ZZPv31AHCyE/s1600-h/aDSC07451.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269946005505970" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFq_6HDI5yY8Gxis7RwGnFGVD3duFXiqqJD5H2oYhIOP6Qw4YZsnf9at1HCBBFYTBn9vuJmAm7gf6ZbQA2khNJIYODAhy90VIcnN95yw00c0uNQKM5R4N-3STY9yAxlxaW_ZZPv31AHCyE/s320/aDSC07451.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguaqGAfKq6oT9BTNNXgvsMOss4qGe8M5t6v_gocl603pIX-O-tNt3J5a5g5Ew1lwU4GZ4RMhyphenhyphenkurCn9_oDvvqKFZ9AeHUsDgDUHSyMIsP7EP_Od7NSbCoY7OKsCOU9gDKxabyOBCT_qQMe/s1600-h/aDSC07455.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269950612319122" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguaqGAfKq6oT9BTNNXgvsMOss4qGe8M5t6v_gocl603pIX-O-tNt3J5a5g5Ew1lwU4GZ4RMhyphenhyphenkurCn9_oDvvqKFZ9AeHUsDgDUHSyMIsP7EP_Od7NSbCoY7OKsCOU9gDKxabyOBCT_qQMe/s320/aDSC07455.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The river was a great trip as usual. This time I took them one way downstream from the west side of Dhaka all the way to Ahsan Manzil, about a 40 minute trip. A bit of drizzle came, but we had umbrellas. They enjoyed it, for all of the them it was their first time. (pics: Anisa/Farabi during the short period of rain on the Buriganga River, Emily/Anisa/Farabi on the Buriganga River)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIqf5TYzKBqrfV5Wc_YMpn7KWSJWGA0G6pMTszgXQm8UOEVGuB21NfSeag8xxPFnNnG1VVs5zkAmDrhEmHLswIjqTxwcS6EU4IggVL9TpT-6yevX5iXYJR925YKiZH5G3ceXQicshZiKr/s1600-h/aDSC07462.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269955628567810" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIqf5TYzKBqrfV5Wc_YMpn7KWSJWGA0G6pMTszgXQm8UOEVGuB21NfSeag8xxPFnNnG1VVs5zkAmDrhEmHLswIjqTxwcS6EU4IggVL9TpT-6yevX5iXYJR925YKiZH5G3ceXQicshZiKr/s320/aDSC07462.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzEX4EGRnUF1IVFj-kTNTKQdXHUIf6swjWdOQ8CIQmvcFPQEI4dQrqUGBlQHPPuZVeXNTv0rfuQ7gKkHGj52dArP2vqNcq9Ag4lwpRyeCZwPY52X7O4Z1HDGBcJwwIQ8VrW2g6w4ipV3O/s1600-h/aDSC07456.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223269954171735042" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzEX4EGRnUF1IVFj-kTNTKQdXHUIf6swjWdOQ8CIQmvcFPQEI4dQrqUGBlQHPPuZVeXNTv0rfuQ7gKkHGj52dArP2vqNcq9Ag4lwpRyeCZwPY52X7O4Z1HDGBcJwwIQ8VrW2g6w4ipV3O/s320/aDSC07456.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>Emily and I then headed up to Gulistan with them, and got them on a bus. We went and bought cricket jerseys. After swinging by to see Baitul Mukarram, the national mosque, at prayer time, we headed home, and later got burgers at American Burger, as Emily was craving a bit of beef after being in mostly Hindu India. (pics: Bangladesh cricket jersey which I was interested in purchasing, Baitul Mukarram at prayer time)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpaiANsvWeIWhV0WhyphenhyphenWKBC7dvMikc0K7dO_RDs_pScJ_UDXV-YIluL9bd_sKth-zxGBAKx6_9RkbSrO-BufFsu0twEFVtA5Er0z7QtfZz6a-2NLBSmeY9XlxGiuJwHntYibJkkRwAQCHs/s1600-h/aDSC07480.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283321595938290" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpaiANsvWeIWhV0WhyphenhyphenWKBC7dvMikc0K7dO_RDs_pScJ_UDXV-YIluL9bd_sKth-zxGBAKx6_9RkbSrO-BufFsu0twEFVtA5Er0z7QtfZz6a-2NLBSmeY9XlxGiuJwHntYibJkkRwAQCHs/s320/aDSC07480.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpaiANsvWeIWhV0WhyphenhyphenWKBC7dvMikc0K7dO_RDs_pScJ_UDXV-YIluL9bd_sKth-zxGBAKx6_9RkbSrO-BufFsu0twEFVtA5Er0z7QtfZz6a-2NLBSmeY9XlxGiuJwHntYibJkkRwAQCHs/s1600-h/aDSC07480.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPv1qvx5gtGnAxow2w3DSIeBv4NSx0vcqy_tNd6K5Iik2HHLaPu9CdG17z3DWqEOCmIhO0vbEIDpBi6bt4GRiLCrlnxfwNHgNv_p9yuhHy3cm7Z3V0Wym5h0AX0Dc1huDjtr57juPzHJj/s1600-h/aDSC07492.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283324132144738" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPv1qvx5gtGnAxow2w3DSIeBv4NSx0vcqy_tNd6K5Iik2HHLaPu9CdG17z3DWqEOCmIhO0vbEIDpBi6bt4GRiLCrlnxfwNHgNv_p9yuhHy3cm7Z3V0Wym5h0AX0Dc1huDjtr57juPzHJj/s320/aDSC07492.JPG" border="0" /></a> </p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><strong></strong></p><br /><br /><br /><p><strong></strong></p><br /><br /><br /><p><strong></strong></p><br /><br /><br /><p><strong></strong></p><br /><br /><br /><p><strong>43rd-5th in Dhaka 6/29<br /></strong><br />Today was a pretty easy one for Emily and I. We took a tour at ICDDR,B, the cholera hospital in Bangladesh. Emily had requested only one thing to do here, and this was it. Being a medical student, and just spending the last month in India doing medical field work, this was very exciting for her. My friend Luke, who works there but was out of town, had suggested we go there and just ask for a tour at external relations. We showed up and asked for a tour, and after them deciding on who would do it for about 20 minutes, we were taken a tour from a woman who specializes in public relations. She showed us the wards, gave us information about the hospital’s history, and answered our questions. Emily was really moved by seeing the HIV unit of the hospital and seeing all the patients there. She had a lot of questions as this is her field, I just enjoyed getting to hear all about the hospital that many of my friends here have played a role at.<br /><br />Big event of the day was on our way to the hospital, Emily fell in the mud. We were getting off a tempo, and I had gotten off first, but just as she was getting off, the tempo started going forward. There was no helping her, she lost balance as she got off because of the vehicle’s movement and she fell backside into the mud. I helped her up, then proceeded to yell at the careless driver. He pleaded with me to forgive him. Meanwhile a large crowded as we tried to clean her off as best as we could. Some people came with water to help clean the mud off, but it really wasn’t possible. They were so helpful, and everyone was really kind. Emily was really happy at how we were treated in this very embarrassing situation. We found our way to the closest mall and bought her an entire new outfit from a storeowner who was very kind to us and didn’t give us any hassle about giving us a low price. She changed in the bathroom and everything was better.<br /><br />On the bus home, and I made sure we took one that went past the lumber yards on the east side of the city. Emily wanted to snap photos of these to show her father who works in a saw mill.<br /><br />We had a dinner at a Bangladeshi restaurant which serves nicer cuisine, and we took seats in front of their giant television which had a cricket match. I then explained to Emily in detail the rules of cricket, she was real excited to understand in full<br /><br /><strong>43rd-6th in Dhaka 6/30</strong><br /><br />Got up very early to pick up Travis. Was at the airport an hour before he arrived, and when he did, I just walked inside the gated area and we embraced, shared a laugh. Then I brought him back by taxi to Jigatola, but not before he could be surrounded by four kids begging for money.<br /><br />After he got back to my home, both Emily and him took naps (not sure if Emily just kept on sleeping, maybe she got up for one hour.) Meanwhile I waited for Moweena to show up. She didn’t, so I made my two friends French toast, the first time I’ve really cooked in my kitchen for anyone. (pics: Travis just after arriving in Dhaka, Travis napping after his long flight to Bangladesh) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcynQv-xNVSgoRMdU2IE-fMjZp-TNZrQiLb0ErK_xMOqM-YsLTn7gOIALHD8NVZ6HwRNfpE8opmaC9AUAHu5GPq-dReieK8tTvkDwYlb1xdcBg-EbBD5lmmDzBZSR6BbG3SDvtFrcccfWw/s1600-h/aDSC07499.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283329514646658" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcynQv-xNVSgoRMdU2IE-fMjZp-TNZrQiLb0ErK_xMOqM-YsLTn7gOIALHD8NVZ6HwRNfpE8opmaC9AUAHu5GPq-dReieK8tTvkDwYlb1xdcBg-EbBD5lmmDzBZSR6BbG3SDvtFrcccfWw/s320/aDSC07499.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1PN0lOxFIrMteyJfDhPktop89yaRdy69edsL-KBhAMv31xjlSV0QCvdJs9124NNxS4e80IebvO0GOqnz3G0n46XXzuZWqgccofRCbL6GToo8uFj0r_4UVeYvPe91WYnu-0VzcB19LmN1/s1600-h/aDSC07500.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283333266488450" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1PN0lOxFIrMteyJfDhPktop89yaRdy69edsL-KBhAMv31xjlSV0QCvdJs9124NNxS4e80IebvO0GOqnz3G0n46XXzuZWqgccofRCbL6GToo8uFj0r_4UVeYvPe91WYnu-0VzcB19LmN1/s320/aDSC07500.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p>After they woke up they enjoyed their breakfast. We then set out and took a bus to the Parliament building area, and checked out Chandrima Uddan, the Parliament building, and shopped at Aarong. We also got some snacks at Café Mango and took a walk around Dhanmondi Lake. It was raining a bit all day. I told Travis that he brought the monsoon with him when he arrived. (pics: Emily/Travis on the bridge at Chandrima Uddan, Travis/Emily with Chandrima Uddan and Parliament in line behind them) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ2oIKvSaEbKv6pR_ma2PUj08fqDbB4TnJz-w3cxJmXf2nNmsxUeHIDmLuEN5dheM5OCVZlaNtmyNvqSvGAm8v_QSGl_ATIfOhLms4hsEp4YFk1FYb-5GIA15VfqkR58CFQKWJ4lj7qw6/s1600-h/aDSC07511.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283333514507106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ2oIKvSaEbKv6pR_ma2PUj08fqDbB4TnJz-w3cxJmXf2nNmsxUeHIDmLuEN5dheM5OCVZlaNtmyNvqSvGAm8v_QSGl_ATIfOhLms4hsEp4YFk1FYb-5GIA15VfqkR58CFQKWJ4lj7qw6/s320/aDSC07511.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7feFn1voyXlfwhxyZe6ZoF_qnzvDE_HDDiAUqf2AgMLb1wwS_oSGdknIRBK3mJrtklvdzsBrUutBwvvFUFso7-x1pH-DtQxSnz3kvuwi8f5FwdMhl7AAgvYervDfpIeJ0PeyByQ0Gl4e4/s1600-h/aDSC07514.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223283717288813554" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7feFn1voyXlfwhxyZe6ZoF_qnzvDE_HDDiAUqf2AgMLb1wwS_oSGdknIRBK3mJrtklvdzsBrUutBwvvFUFso7-x1pH-DtQxSnz3kvuwi8f5FwdMhl7AAgvYervDfpIeJ0PeyByQ0Gl4e4/s320/aDSC07514.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />For lunch and dinner we at the same restaurant Emily and I ate at last night. It’s hygienic food, so I hoped their stomachs could handle it just fine.<br /><br /><br /><strong>43rd-7th in Dhaka 7/1<br /></strong><br />Today the rain was real bad. We woke up and the road in front of my house was already flooded. But we had already made a plan to go see Sonargaon today. We treaded through the gross gray water in front of my house and several other bits of it around Jigatola. Got breakfast quickly at a hotel, and boarded a series of buses to get to Sonargaon. (pics: Emily/Travis making it through the flood in front of my apartment building, rickshaws plowing through the flood waters in Sonargaon)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhmb_oIaqrmlxId-3E0otw9aYlK5R80Wwx07zVLEJmSlx4Ao59A-feaHyi9f4IRW5_cCElgiyX0fx_Fo2kTcRiSmYsPkVWMODmyQ1n7dCpn3FAQwaAO9y62u3mSc-gABBlAn0NngoCSyV/s1600-h/aDSC07532.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223287352328092162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhmb_oIaqrmlxId-3E0otw9aYlK5R80Wwx07zVLEJmSlx4Ao59A-feaHyi9f4IRW5_cCElgiyX0fx_Fo2kTcRiSmYsPkVWMODmyQ1n7dCpn3FAQwaAO9y62u3mSc-gABBlAn0NngoCSyV/s320/aDSC07532.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6ha0sqtzR0PrP_3dkOe_KqNbWnElRx4AvQ-KgOEwpWfxewdLBdZhPM5MCEbZtp0o0MZM2749okf6Tb_Ma67V09zqdRHJjDSFvS0e8LoAyg1P8adkkyWc3h4TUdtWMmmdi0KnxiJGFrVi/s1600-h/ADSC07534.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223287358451511954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6ha0sqtzR0PrP_3dkOe_KqNbWnElRx4AvQ-KgOEwpWfxewdLBdZhPM5MCEbZtp0o0MZM2749okf6Tb_Ma67V09zqdRHJjDSFvS0e8LoAyg1P8adkkyWc3h4TUdtWMmmdi0KnxiJGFrVi/s320/ADSC07534.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The rain never really let up, and it did partially dampen the mood for the day. We did explore the museums at Sonargaon but it was too wet to really walk around the gardens there. We took rickshaws through the old Hindu mansion-lined street area, saw the old rajbari, and Goaldi Mosque. By the end we were soaked despite whatever rain gear we had with us. We got snacks and took buses home to dry up and relax for our long journey ahead. (pics: Emily in front of Sadarbari in Sonargaon, my rickshawwallah plowing through the rain behind Emily and Travis' rickshaw between the old Hindu mansions, Travis/Emily at Sonargaon's rajbari, Travis in front of Goaldi Mosque) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfmOjbkZ0Y9naXzGEWv8SWwbHXO5KMDFls0MkXUDMW_P0EOL8hvRGYabdUWTBnc56M2J-riaaQeWhgjrj_9vFdk7GqJErmvfv1yDG4pmwpD_fBUsob8PeDzdqckevFZkCRjtQ5NWOzYeZ/s1600-h/aDSC07536.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223287359314995378" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfmOjbkZ0Y9naXzGEWv8SWwbHXO5KMDFls0MkXUDMW_P0EOL8hvRGYabdUWTBnc56M2J-riaaQeWhgjrj_9vFdk7GqJErmvfv1yDG4pmwpD_fBUsob8PeDzdqckevFZkCRjtQ5NWOzYeZ/s320/aDSC07536.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckXtmM_7dhKWoJoRGcL5iBvLbK1CAj4zIJy43xUpskmiGEjrTmOUSU6eD2KniCWD47eqBKIWtWWhp1Tkjks9f_SNpd2OrXt6geZsukqv5mn0uFEZSpIgJ3MCB6e-DkZz9zGHyd-gBkSgi/s1600-h/aDSC07555.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223288951989686562" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckXtmM_7dhKWoJoRGcL5iBvLbK1CAj4zIJy43xUpskmiGEjrTmOUSU6eD2KniCWD47eqBKIWtWWhp1Tkjks9f_SNpd2OrXt6geZsukqv5mn0uFEZSpIgJ3MCB6e-DkZz9zGHyd-gBkSgi/s320/aDSC07555.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82-q80cfNmFoKqTcfch01_y1pTTORqAmbk5hEaHQaEwZywAhb4rCtVbXSiXSYT-i5GiNadr0DqQBKLHie_FcBYx7QC6ARcTb_7aY393LafHRNArPW6RO26kRUkxbsrkbLRtj4Mbd5Nfpq/s1600-h/aDSC07551.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223288952729050226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82-q80cfNmFoKqTcfch01_y1pTTORqAmbk5hEaHQaEwZywAhb4rCtVbXSiXSYT-i5GiNadr0DqQBKLHie_FcBYx7QC6ARcTb_7aY393LafHRNArPW6RO26kRUkxbsrkbLRtj4Mbd5Nfpq/s320/aDSC07551.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE__oIY0R6hj3x1fbuMc1GFUZSbIDRzdaz5jqHE93R3UspYJb_d3QjoKkJvuGhljRcgO4SAaTJB10xSyGFaDyrmV7mCsw4edIFVvqkPgJz6E3au7PMyskew_Fwlm7Tvn0mt4igZw3GB5YX/s1600-h/ADSC07558.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223288956726606962" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE__oIY0R6hj3x1fbuMc1GFUZSbIDRzdaz5jqHE93R3UspYJb_d3QjoKkJvuGhljRcgO4SAaTJB10xSyGFaDyrmV7mCsw4edIFVvqkPgJz6E3au7PMyskew_Fwlm7Tvn0mt4igZw3GB5YX/s320/ADSC07558.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Bad part of the day was finding a family of cockroaches (about 20) living in the boots I had planned to bring to Nepal. I spent 15 minutes trying to get them, and all their poop, out. Also inside the boots was a gecko, who probably was enjoying the cockroach buffet my boot was providing him, he was the last to come out.<br />Also Travis pointed out to me that I had mosquito larvae growing in my emergency water supply I keep in my front room. It was really gross to see all of them swimming around. I never noticed many mosquitoes in my place, but Trav and Emily said there were a lot, and this is probably why. So I emptied out my emergency water supply and cleaned it out. Trav suggested in the future I add oil to the top of the water because it makes the larvae unable to breath. Still very upsetting that I had a mosquito farm in my house. (pics: cockroach poop I dumped out of my boots, gecko left in the boot after all the cockroaches had left) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3b8RG-_D6xjZZIpjJgdsD9Mgc93kijbFdsRqwQZ4pcA4NpqdZkPMVFajFBBX3n0gQNiYMDDJaRbFXQ_q71poRtfgErAZhJkJg_VKB40XIcuwtPB7a8nhy79SJChkNHiqBpf8vC0TDIodn/s1600-h/aDSC07528.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223287342974332946" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3b8RG-_D6xjZZIpjJgdsD9Mgc93kijbFdsRqwQZ4pcA4NpqdZkPMVFajFBBX3n0gQNiYMDDJaRbFXQ_q71poRtfgErAZhJkJg_VKB40XIcuwtPB7a8nhy79SJChkNHiqBpf8vC0TDIodn/s320/aDSC07528.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwNXt_stPOvJW2433wuBJ9K3saQQK_0uEJ0GGip2YwVPG7um4wO3oUxE3GgbOfXoa8ckGL03a9ZFk_Xi0LXH6Bma3XbzuMXpO7-k0SVXC8mN21yhoWJtCzwvk2Y1T9-vUnNjMygnGSn3R/s1600-h/aDSC07529.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223287350194248146" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwNXt_stPOvJW2433wuBJ9K3saQQK_0uEJ0GGip2YwVPG7um4wO3oUxE3GgbOfXoa8ckGL03a9ZFk_Xi0LXH6Bma3XbzuMXpO7-k0SVXC8mN21yhoWJtCzwvk2Y1T9-vUnNjMygnGSn3R/s320/aDSC07529.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the evening we left for Nepal. We boarded a bus in Kalyanpur bound for the border with India in the north. It was a nice AC bus that we hoped we could sleep well in. I sat next to a boy who has been going to boarding school in India for 14 years, and does this trip over ten times a year. We talked about how we had wanted to go to Darjeeling, but the security situation there now wasn’t too stable. He insisted it was safe, and I figured I’d still consider by hearing what was the news in Siliguri, India the next day. (pic: Travis/Emily on our bus ride to Siliguri in India)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5VDY5YEvrrxCgkuNydVUJAuiMRhIpU4i03evgj0QTzeTVky4CklVhJDDujy1G3hgitdYxznFBrE53HtztfZcXDp20JMv-wJKx7m9Y43Rcla9sNKBlrMLpFvlZlNpOtkBAQU6izHtPKZI/s1600-h/aDSC07561.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223288961508176258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5VDY5YEvrrxCgkuNydVUJAuiMRhIpU4i03evgj0QTzeTVky4CklVhJDDujy1G3hgitdYxznFBrE53HtztfZcXDp20JMv-wJKx7m9Y43Rcla9sNKBlrMLpFvlZlNpOtkBAQU6izHtPKZI/s320/aDSC07561.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p></p>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-16469517046133449802008-06-26T17:34:00.010+06:002008-06-27T22:19:05.441+06:00Week 42: Starting to get some results, starting to collect new data<strong>42nd-1st in Dhaka 6/18 </strong><br /><div><div><br />We had a few losses of power at BUET today, more than we had the last two days. Really was disruptive to what work we were trying to get done. Another hiccup today was that Shegufta somehow erased half of her work. She’ll have to redo it now, and I’m sure it upset her more than it did me. </div><div><br />I’ve had to figure out how much to pay her for her help. I’d offered a few months back, and at the time she’d said no need, that experience was enough. But I brought it up again this time, and she accepted. I’ve used advice from Jen who is paying several assistants doing transcription work at Dhaka University. I also took into account the starting salary of a civil engineering graduate in Bangladesh (Tk15,000-Tk20,000 per month.)<br />This whole experience is me giving first time experience in managing personnel in civil engineering, as opposed to the rowing team, and making managerial decisions. Choosing work for an employee’s skill level is a neat challenge. </div><br /><div>Tonight was a Fulbright get-together. It was my “turn” to organize it, so in the past week I’d sent out emails to everyone, trying to get a date set. Six students, two scholars, and Shaheen all were willing to come, so I set the date as today, and made a reservation at Red Tomato, the same restaurant I enjoyed with my parents when they were in Dhaka. Well by this evening two students had cancelled and one scholar didn’t show up, so it was a much smaller get-together than I had hoped. In fact, Jen and I were the only current Fulbrighters there. Kristin was a Fulbright last year, Julia is affiliated through an English-teaching grant, but not officially a Fulbright, and Dr. Haque had already had finished his grant, but just happened to be back in town. (pics: Julia/Dr. Haque/Jen/Ben at Red Tomato for Fulbright get-together, myself/Dr. Haque/Shaheen Khan at Fulbright get-together)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbKbcO5uUwPm36teOgvuUaCLRYvaUWCog725_xh0ubt8EOK2aES1dY9VhukanrXNbH8imK5jeweRc6lG_MnXSh9ROu1D0a9SiXEUl1yG8l7cY9JvpT6QbsN8qdqJ66GZ7rl-a9iatcJ-i/s1600-h/aDSC07320.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216408680196191634" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbKbcO5uUwPm36teOgvuUaCLRYvaUWCog725_xh0ubt8EOK2aES1dY9VhukanrXNbH8imK5jeweRc6lG_MnXSh9ROu1D0a9SiXEUl1yG8l7cY9JvpT6QbsN8qdqJ66GZ7rl-a9iatcJ-i/s320/aDSC07320.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLwGuQcs6MHvFtRo-wFxJElsQtMRatokudzUTtb9dlP-LOB3ECrAY57RjuDaUKi1tIL8Bl3monLL4-sTTq7RTOD-i8iwe8TC6eKbvGk_5CkK3HpEbaMVpiosfqoYKsYgMb4cMLhljwDDM/s1600-h/aDSC07321a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216408678706405842" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLwGuQcs6MHvFtRo-wFxJElsQtMRatokudzUTtb9dlP-LOB3ECrAY57RjuDaUKi1tIL8Bl3monLL4-sTTq7RTOD-i8iwe8TC6eKbvGk_5CkK3HpEbaMVpiosfqoYKsYgMb4cMLhljwDDM/s320/aDSC07321a.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxARhWOa9re_bRLfugs8E_n8P486nlvcKC9PrmIudYRtm_GqSi00VTy4gB4fbCgm0CJaNtaJR3tcowXUzjPOrBnm7PxEuu6ZAE7-VVpMtM21iPUQmn_HEam97bZTUJnwPtkJxe1PrhBZ7/s1600-h/aDSC07322.JPG"></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Bad part of the evening was that some people who ordered a pizza disliked it. Apparently it was way too saucy, with a bad sauce. I’ll put this as the second worst pizza in Dhaka, the worst being American Burger’s (who think it’s acceptable to put American Cheese on their pizza.<br /><br /><strong>42nd-2nd in Dhaka 6/19</strong> </div><br /><div>Today I got up early. I had planned to have three data collections today, one during the AM peak hour, one during the midday lull, and one during the PM peak, at the Elephant Road bus stop. I got there for the first data collection and decided the Trans Silva bus counter, in the middle and without any obstructions from the ticket seller’s bench, would be good to station myself. I asked the ticket seller if I could sit next to him while he worked, and he said sure. I collected data for one hour on the buses that passed about how crowded they were and how long they stayed at the stop. From this, and future data collections like this, I hope to arrive at a value which I can say represents the amount of crowded buses running in Dhaka every day.<br /></div><div>While sitting there in the morning, I heard someone say my name. It was Altaf on his commute to work. He was buying a ticket for Trans Silva to go to his job (although I would advise him to take one of the six other buses which go to his job because they are all cheaper and of equal quality, Trans Silva tries to encourage people not to get on the bus at this stop for Motijheel/Gulistan by keeping its fares high for those stops.) He did quickly invite me to come visit at his office today before he boarded, so I told him I would. </div><div><br />The ticket seller I was sitting next to was great to talk to. I got to ask him questions about the buses, getting his take on things. Also found out, clearly from him, why some buses don’t come down this stretch of road at certain times. That was very valuable information that I’ve been wondering about for a long time! Because seven of the buses that come by here have to reach it by pulling a U-turn on a perpendicular road, during the 8:30-9pm period when offices are opening, the police want those buses to take an alternate route. However this alternate route still requires that U-turn, so I’m not sure what the benefits. It does, however, force passenger to have to cross a 4-lane divided road to get to board the bus on the perpendicular road: unsafe!<br /></div><br /><div>I went home just in time for Moweena to arrive. In fact she was waiting outside my gate because she was about to leave! If I tell her to come at a certain time, she likes to come a little bit early and then leave since I’m obviously not there yet. Despite how much I tell her I will always get back on time. This morning I was planning on showing her how to make French toast, as I really wanted it, and it’d be cool if she could make it sometimes. As I was about to explain, eggs and bread in hands, she guessed what I wanted to eat, just the Bangladeshi version. Well I asked her if that is the one with onions and chilies on it, and she responded in the affirmative…so I asked her to please make it without that, and she looked at me strange. But she did, and it was delicious! </div><div><br />Went to Motijheel to visit Altaf. He showed me photos of his new wife, they got married just recently. He also showed me photos from when Anwar was in town with Sanjana, and a neat photo of the two married brothers and their wives. We then got lunch next door and hung out at his office for a bit after. It’s been since March that I’ve seen him, every time I called earlier he was always busy. We remarked how everyone always feels busy in Bangladesh, always running someplace, but no one gets that much done. I’m going to blame the traffic. </div><div><br />I then headed straight to my second data collection at the same bus counter. No issues, a few more people talked to me asking what I was doing since it wasn’t early in the morning and they were more awake. The bus counter shift change occurred, and the guy from the morning introduced to the guy I’d be sitting next to again later in the evening.<br />For the third data collection it was raining when I arrived. That made it a bit more difficult, but I still managed somehow. It slowed down after the first ten minutes. It was a bit harder to see the buses in the dark, but it was only one hour, and I quickly acclimated. This day was more exhausting than I had expected. </div><div><br /><strong>42nd-3rd in Dhaka 6/20 </strong></div><strong></strong><div><strong><br /></strong>Watched two movies today, one right after waking up and just while lying in bed, and one later during lunch. It was a great day at home. My last to spend all day at home for three weeks, so I wasn’t going to let it go. </div><div><br />I posted my blog, applied for jobs, read lots of online articles, relaxed all day. It felt great. Needed a day of recovery mentally and physically. Moweena made French toast again and it was delicious. Also getting good news about travel partners. And lots of emails back from professors and students for potential graduate schools.<br /><br />In the evening, after relaxing all day, I attended a dinner at <a href="http://www.theartstrust.com/artistprofile.aspx?artistid=238&name=Jamal%20Ahmed">Jamal Ahmed’s </a>home, where he was hosting this summer’s AIBS program for a meal. I was invited by the director Tony Stewart as an AIBS alumnus. The students were great to talk to, and Jamal’s home/studio (he is a famous artist) was clean with his latest work all around, and the food his wife made was great. Had some long conversations with several students about transportation. One particular student Jeremy, Ben, and I talked for a long time about different regions of the US and how they’re responding to their transportation issues, particularly Arizona where Jeremy is from (and I recently read a report about,) and then moved on to talking about ITS solutions and other fun transportation topics. I stayed until about 10:30, then grabbed a rickshaw home. (pics: summer AIBS students James and Luke along with Ben at AIBS dinner at Jamal Ahmed's home, paintings in Jamal Ahmed's studio (sorry blurry))<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxARhWOa9re_bRLfugs8E_n8P486nlvcKC9PrmIudYRtm_GqSi00VTy4gB4fbCgm0CJaNtaJR3tcowXUzjPOrBnm7PxEuu6ZAE7-VVpMtM21iPUQmn_HEam97bZTUJnwPtkJxe1PrhBZ7/s1600-h/aDSC07322.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216408686432341010" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxARhWOa9re_bRLfugs8E_n8P486nlvcKC9PrmIudYRtm_GqSi00VTy4gB4fbCgm0CJaNtaJR3tcowXUzjPOrBnm7PxEuu6ZAE7-VVpMtM21iPUQmn_HEam97bZTUJnwPtkJxe1PrhBZ7/s320/aDSC07322.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcVcQYUX1kOBTCpToqooeo9EEhX3Hh1ZZYAEocTv2U2IMiwhjNBo9mkEz0K1jelZtCLNgzwrsMB7YvvdXL6RbPEROrpb01v-NuJt3a7dWMpSLJfCj7njg6A-_vAQG7PJYcfqmwxoND2oo/s1600-h/aDSC07326.JPG"></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcVcQYUX1kOBTCpToqooeo9EEhX3Hh1ZZYAEocTv2U2IMiwhjNBo9mkEz0K1jelZtCLNgzwrsMB7YvvdXL6RbPEROrpb01v-NuJt3a7dWMpSLJfCj7njg6A-_vAQG7PJYcfqmwxoND2oo/s1600-h/aDSC07326.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuWiU9Bpgd9D6gUDJ3IGbp9Ez61UmnMfiwQDn3OWpVqvB1VConvwxwOd5K3P69OAAFhyphenhyphenoUS2cEl-WPLdlVRoIr-iafwUXFtYBm12K5O9HBDCXzVO37XzHEi-ItpEuZE9t0yB16xInXo62/s1600-h/aDSC07326.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216409619828141954" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuWiU9Bpgd9D6gUDJ3IGbp9Ez61UmnMfiwQDn3OWpVqvB1VConvwxwOd5K3P69OAAFhyphenhyphenoUS2cEl-WPLdlVRoIr-iafwUXFtYBm12K5O9HBDCXzVO37XzHEi-ItpEuZE9t0yB16xInXo62/s320/aDSC07326.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>42nd-4th in Dhaka 6/21</strong><br /><br />It’s always very humid in the house now. The rains are coming each day, but nothing heavy yet, at least not in Dhaka. The problem with the humidity is that it gets into everything. My towels don’t dry anymore between showers. And I noticed that my favorite hat hanging on the wall for a few months is now moldy! Very upset about that. I need to make sure all cloth items are staying locked up or I’m going to have a lot of ruined clothing. I checked some of the clothes I have in bags under my bed, and those seem ok. I don’t have space to store them.<br /><br />Working with Shegufta at BUET today was productive. I did more writing than I usually do, wrote some Visual Basic code, and crunched some numbers on my data sheets. She processed three buses.<br /><br />Moweena came in the evening because she came too late in the morning to do anything productive. I had her wash clothes, including my sidebag, which has gotten really gross. In fact a lot of the things I use a lot get this layer of grime that I can feel. Its sweat, just built up on the fabric.<br /><br />Today I also met a guy who worked on Dhaka’s Strategic Transportation Plan, the document I spent about a month browsing through when I first started reading up on Dhaka. He was telling me how he did a lot of technical work under the guys running the project from Louis Berger. I bombarded him with questions, and I think I wore him out! I asked them how many people were on the team who collected the data, how much time it all took, what were his direct responsibilities, what the management structure was like. I was very interested to know what goes into such a large project of studying solutions for a city with horrible traffic.<br /><br /><strong>42nd-5th in Dhaka 6/22</strong><br /><br />Went to BUET at the usual time, but Shegufta called me to tell me she won’t be coming in today. So I spent the whole day coding one small part in Visual Basic. Somehow the computer isn’t blocking me, don’t know what changed. But I was able to run it and test it for errors. It works now and I’m very proud to have written my first visual basic program.<br />Simply, it’s a program which takes my alights and my boardings from two different sections of my sheet, and analyzes them as they would’ve actually happened in real life. This involved a lot of IF-THEN and DO WHILE statements, but I got it to logically work out the order of the alights and boards. Even got to play with an array! Was fun to figure it out. Then fun to have the data automatically reentered back into the sheets.<br /><br />After, I met up with Farabi in Dhanmondi. Hadn’t seem him since January when he came to visit family for a few weeks. He’s here for the summer now, and is trying to do some social volunteering work. Always tough it seems, the project he joined basically gave him office work, so he left, and will be going to Grameen Bank now to work with them.<br /><br />Farabi and I tried going to play some billiards, but the place we went was packed. We stood around for half an hour hoping one of the table’s would clear up, but all of them just got more packed as more and more university students came by to meet up with their friends who were already playing. Realizing we’ll likely never play, we walked down to Rifles Square to go bowling. We bought socks since we both were in sandals, and played on their 4-lane alley. Of those 4 lanes, we were to find out two don’t work at all, one lane is only able to handle one bowler, and the other can only handle two. We had to wait for a couple to finish on the two-person lane. When we finally got to bowl, we bowled two games each. I got 116 and 112, about 30 points less than my average at home, but the difference mostly came because I was not completing any of my spares. My accuracy was very poor today.<br /><br />From there we went to Mirpur Rd. to find a place for some food. We ended up stumbling upon a place called Shanghai. Farabi had said he didn’t want Chinese food, but I told him I had a hunch that this place didn’t serve it, despite the name. Well we went in and the place was themed in Chinese décor, but the menu was everything but! In fact the menu was full of neat items, and I was excited we’d found the place, I will definitely come back. While there, I looked again at the sign, and realized that it said “Out of Shanghai”, surely that is the reason the menu is intentionally not Chinese.<br /><br /><strong>42nd-6th in Dhaka 6/23</strong><br /><br />A few things in the Gulshan area to get done. One was to go by the Best Air office and buy a ticket for Dhaka to Bangkok in late September. They are having specials right now, but not on one-way tickets. So I tried to buy the ticket, but uh oh, problem as always with buying tickets. I can’t buy for September yet! They have only set their summer schedule, which runs to the end of August. So their fall schedule is not made yet, so no one knows when they’ll fly, if the route will even exist, or at what price!! So I was told I have to wait until the end of July to buy a ticket for September, because they won’t have the schedule ready until then.<br /><br />Also, while I waited to hang out with Farabi, dropped by a few jewelry making stores and looked into making cuff links with the pearls I had. Only one or two even knew what cuff links were. Gathered prices from those who could identify a cuff link.<br />Farabi and I finally met up after he finished hanging out with someone else, and debated what to do. We didn’t want to hang out around food, but that’s all we could think of. We tried going to the Western Grill which is inside an old airplane, but they were closed. We ended up just going back to his family’s place where he’s staying and played cards and had snacks.<br /><br />I then headed over to Gulshan 1 for data collection. I stood at the Gulshan 1 west side ticket counter and recorded the buses passing at their peak hour. When I stand at these data collections, a lot of people come up to me and ask me which bus to get on for certain destinations, and also ask where certain bus counters are. I guess I look professional, or rather I don’t look busy. Sure it’s a mixture of both. Data collection went fine. Left my bag with the Winner ticket counter, but the guy kept leaving since the bus has such long headways at night. So I kept staying at the counter to watch my bag. Three guys talked to me so long I swear they missed the buses they wanted.<br /><br /><strong>42nd-7th in Dhaka 6/24</strong><br /><br />Morning started at home, a breakfast of egg, roti, and honey. Headed to BUET, and got there around 10:30. Shegufta and I set to work. She had three more buses to process until we were all caught up. I had some graphs I wanted to make in my analysis that I could show to Dr. Rahman in a meeting the afternoon. I also worked to make my spreadsheets easier to use. I’ve created a lot of data and I can’t let it get out of hand. I also tried starting an abstract for this conference, but didn’t get far, wanting to wait to talk to Dr. Rahman instead.<br /><br />Trying to get some graphs printed out for Dr. Rahman for our meeting turned out to be quite an adventure. BUET doesn’t have ANY printers for use of the students, says Shegufta. She blames it on the fact that they only pay Tk22 a semester for tuition, but I said that’s silly since they are a public school, and their tuition is of Tk22 doesn’t go to anything useful, so using that logic they wouldn’t even have teachers. Anyway, no printer at BUET.<br />So I went to Nilkhet, where all BUET students go to print things. But it was Tuesday, so the entire place was closed. Not a single place I could print. Meeting time was getting close, so I rushed over to Azimpur to try and find someone to print from. Found a computer place, with three dusty computers. The guy said they could print. This was the slowest computer and slowest printer I’ve seen in this decade. But it got printed and I rushed back to BUET in time for my meeting, total time used to print out four pages, 55 minutes!<br /><br />Meeting went fine. Showed Dr. Rahman my graphs, and was glad to be finally showing him some results. We talked about the conference I want to go to in Chennai in September, that Dr. Stone at NC State told me about. Talked about writing the abstract and the draft paper, and what types of things I should focus. What I took away from the meeting is that I need to focus on making graphs and charts readable for users. Any graph not understandable is a bad graph.<br /><br />Working with Shegufta has been good. She spends all day listening to my voice, which I will applaud her for, I’m sure that can get frustrating. She does get a real kick out of certain recordings in which the recorder has picked up a conversation of someone asking me things about my work in Bengali. She starts giggling.<br /><br />In the evening I spent some time looking at flights in Southeast Asia from Singapore to Bangkok. It is cheap, about 62 dollars. The plethora of low cost carriers in Southeast Asia is driving down prices to absurd levels.<br /><br />Emily warned me that there are problems happening in Darjeeling. I hadn’t looked at the news at all. It looks like we’ll be canceling that part of the trip. The Gorkha people, who originate from Nepal, are striking, wanting their own state in India, called Gorkhaland. They told all tourists to leave. Thus, we will likely drive straight to Nepal after reaching Siliguri. </div></div>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-43478899054697449892008-06-19T11:12:00.010+06:002008-06-20T12:50:53.337+06:00Week 41: Second cricket loss, first time trapped in an elevator, several disruptive power outages<b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/11<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve noticed that the <st1:time minute="0" hour="12">midday</st1:time> highs and the nightly lows are now only separated by three to five degrees in the weather forecasts. It seems like the heat is trapped, and nights don’t really cool down anymore.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Took Ben to lunch to try some foods that, honestly, I don’t eat anymore here. At least one I used to love, biryani. The other, borhani, I’ve never liked the few times I’ve tried it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After spending the morning at home, we went to New Market to pick up our clothing from the tailor. Everything fit very well, and we were happy with our results. Ben now has the task of bringing his stuff around the world. We also ordered some beach-like shirts, one for each of us, and went to a button store to choose what buttons we’d like. We walked around the market for awhile after looking for some items of interest.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We then headed to Gulshan for Aaron’s goodbye party. He leaves tomorrow morning. I’d never really been to any of the foreign clubs in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, and was amazed to see the luxury some people choose to enjoy. Tonight was their weekly cookout, with a variety of meats, including pig, which you never see in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. I got chicken skewers, Ben got shrimp skewers. Lots of people came to bid their goodbyes to Aaron. The system they work on here for payment is through a complex booklet you have to buy of a set cost. As a result, Ben and I were left with $8.50 (yes dollars) of credit, so we bought a double cappuccino, a latte, and a slice of cheesecake. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/12<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today is Ben’s last full day in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. We were at home in the morning, Ben had to plan out a lot of things for his trip to <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and my slow internet makes that a long process. I went out and made some copies of things for him: maps, plane tickets, etc. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The day was centered around an international cricket match between <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> at Mirpur Stadium. The game is the third One Day International match between the three nations in the Tri Nations Series: <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region><st1:place>Pakistan</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> had already lost to <st1:country-region><st1:place>Pakistan</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> had beaten <st1:country-region><st1:place>Pakistan</st1:place></st1:country-region>, so things were not looking up for <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s match versus <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> (well, honestly that is known weeks beforehand.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had to pick up tickets for Luke and his friend Stephanie who were coming later, so I told Ben and Ayon to go inside and I’d meet them there. The ticket counter had three windows, two for the cheap Gallery seats, and one for the Reserved and VVIP seats. Well despite the prices attached to those latter tickets, that particular line was the only one that went through a giant mud puddle. You had to walk along the bamboo handrails separating the lines to stay out of the puddle. There are always penalties for sitting in the better seats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I met up with everyone inside, already there along with Ben and Ayon were Hridoy (Ayon and Jayita’s cousin), Jayita, and her fiancée Apurba. Later Opu would arrive, and then finally Luke and Stephanie later on. (pic: Hridoy/Opu/Ayon/Ben at the match having a serious discussion on the state of Bangladeshi cricket)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPNz3at9OWY2NvdyX8k3M0KBX_WPZb4lbUH1VLVu-rYYYEoz3ggZOeXj33n0SE7HdD3KDnXJtNjJJqS0zWJ1vz7jE0cSESfW4zGbps79xlX9wHCjqCrfUrkQx9cdD-MVbnwku2aNbqjUa/s1600-h/aDSC07297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPNz3at9OWY2NvdyX8k3M0KBX_WPZb4lbUH1VLVu-rYYYEoz3ggZOeXj33n0SE7HdD3KDnXJtNjJJqS0zWJ1vz7jE0cSESfW4zGbps79xlX9wHCjqCrfUrkQx9cdD-MVbnwku2aNbqjUa/s320/aDSC07297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213841342073376482" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place><br /></st1:place></st1:country-region></p><p class="MsoNormal"><st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> had chosen to bat first, and the inning went well, they scored 222 runs and lost their last wicket in the final over. It looked like <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> could have a fighting chance if they played well defensively in the second inning. The game was quite warm, and the sun blared on us for about an hour, causing people around to shield themselves with whatever they had around (flags, hats, bookbags.) We had several bottles of cold beverages and two ice creams to keep cool. (pics: India bowls to Bangladesh in the Tri-Nations Series, Ben/Opu/Hridoy/Jayita watch the match, Bangladeshi cricket supporters waving the national flag, blocking out the sun by whatever way possible)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGEeevzll65tGGW825UFmrmsGIqA3GS7Xg0zeLeSBqQnwxK4EM_SNuY8k8oCCxIuRyi_FAtSyClegGkinG18519MxJW-tVKNyl_K1c6wPIwlBIsltmiZLZSGcPlEGRUdmeRw6ckW53fBd/s1600-h/ADSC07273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGEeevzll65tGGW825UFmrmsGIqA3GS7Xg0zeLeSBqQnwxK4EM_SNuY8k8oCCxIuRyi_FAtSyClegGkinG18519MxJW-tVKNyl_K1c6wPIwlBIsltmiZLZSGcPlEGRUdmeRw6ckW53fBd/s320/ADSC07273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213841339218610130" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSa99EnGvGdtzSL6bxHlcxoq4MuNLtdVkbbexWOIjfBBProTfA4j3RlenZ6t3W_u3FXCQEKvrYGgJf2KqWYOikmWCtGZDrjI2Ig8tuRo2CUUIG9MrJ_fqk6GQOayxAiyezudClEtkCP3fZ/s1600-h/aDSC07272.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSa99EnGvGdtzSL6bxHlcxoq4MuNLtdVkbbexWOIjfBBProTfA4j3RlenZ6t3W_u3FXCQEKvrYGgJf2KqWYOikmWCtGZDrjI2Ig8tuRo2CUUIG9MrJ_fqk6GQOayxAiyezudClEtkCP3fZ/s320/aDSC07272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213841334143406162" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXEUUcUfyqTfwRjNDS1LTzyDhGMwQqGmr0NeTxPbQyzo2p8bNR30FXZz_rw9RmHvb-WG167bDQYV28ydxQZUtOccSgqOujuvWsOPAVS2k3LHSsQ3fYbey4380EctyGNOVpA-izkl2NAnq/s1600-h/aDSC07284.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXEUUcUfyqTfwRjNDS1LTzyDhGMwQqGmr0NeTxPbQyzo2p8bNR30FXZz_rw9RmHvb-WG167bDQYV28ydxQZUtOccSgqOujuvWsOPAVS2k3LHSsQ3fYbey4380EctyGNOVpA-izkl2NAnq/s320/aDSC07284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213841340950659858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcis0Ro7mEJwVBhBemjXoUirHDwXNcKCVLRBaVwwAr936W88Pa-idBjbjZO-49pM-BJ18MAzLaPbiInDY5YT_VCy-ZKhyKLjVbLN74V7sTGiGB0YZKmXSyva4j0QKTttPvFcKnCmZBDXN_/s1600-h/aDSC07282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcis0Ro7mEJwVBhBemjXoUirHDwXNcKCVLRBaVwwAr936W88Pa-idBjbjZO-49pM-BJ18MAzLaPbiInDY5YT_VCy-ZKhyKLjVbLN74V7sTGiGB0YZKmXSyva4j0QKTttPvFcKnCmZBDXN_/s320/aDSC07282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213841337170239618" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />During the innings break, a friend of Jayita’s found us. He works for the Bangladesh Cricket Board, and insisted that he bring us to the VVIP section to sit. He didn’t need to twist our arms. We arrived at this section by actually leaving the stadium and then coming back in through several security checks. But once inside, we had incredible field-side seats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">From our excellent seating position, however, we watched as <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> got dismantled by <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>. <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> scored runs at a run rate of over 7.0, a high pace. The game felt a bit slower as we watched <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> lose. At one point Ben and I found some excellent game food beyond the ice cream, samosas, chingaras, soda, and chips that were being sold in the stands. A meal of a chicken cutlet, two spring rolls, and an excellent bread roll. Our friends left slowly, Jayita and Apurba first, Luke and Stephanie next. At the end of the match, only Ayon, Opu, Hridoy, Ben and I were left to cheer on two end-game wickets collected by <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. (pics: Ben/myself in our new seats, field view from the new seats)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4c4nR3Kly2Lkp81E1HB-m4cykhlCF5l0IN8jpF1P-_CdkjlPFtLCynOIFrlHN6EXgQfw8pLMy52IBm9zCw6HNf83SN6keGOgy12clrHG7X7HA2_XIaKFEe8zJmvxlN0UFUafjSulqANV/s1600-h/aDSC07314.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4c4nR3Kly2Lkp81E1HB-m4cykhlCF5l0IN8jpF1P-_CdkjlPFtLCynOIFrlHN6EXgQfw8pLMy52IBm9zCw6HNf83SN6keGOgy12clrHG7X7HA2_XIaKFEe8zJmvxlN0UFUafjSulqANV/s320/aDSC07314.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213842948339933170" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiil3kwMPR5kaY1r_qubiQPoQBanFodgOFKJ6uFnqD6aiqvoB5owutgQ9INi2dFDqy9Wkk5IQ0DHya4dhGzSVZdyvtRgprYtxv51x2aZFRYAY4KLqhP6tjDlAF5lccmb4K0zYFHrHc3L0Hb/s1600-h/aDSC07312.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiil3kwMPR5kaY1r_qubiQPoQBanFodgOFKJ6uFnqD6aiqvoB5owutgQ9INi2dFDqy9Wkk5IQ0DHya4dhGzSVZdyvtRgprYtxv51x2aZFRYAY4KLqhP6tjDlAF5lccmb4K0zYFHrHc3L0Hb/s320/aDSC07312.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213842948513431010" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Upon coming home, Ben wanted to update his blog one last time, and get packed. Meanwhile we also watched the movie Darjeeling Limited. A perfect fit since Ben is about to go across <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-3rd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/13<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Got up very early and brought Ben to the bus counter to leave for Kolkata. No issues, he boarded, and is now on his next leg of his world tour: <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> for three days before heading to <st1:country-region><st1:place>Sweden</st1:place></st1:country-region> to meet with his family.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Spent the middle part of the day updating the blog, posting photos, and applying for jobs. Also caught up on all the blogs I read, as I’d stopped reading when Ben was here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moweena didn’t show up, so I didn’t have a fresh breakfast. This resulted in me not eating much today. I finally got lunch around <st1:time minute="0" hour="16">4pm</st1:time>, and it was just then that Jen and Ben called to invite me over for dinner at their place tonight. Good thing I didn’t order too much.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Before heading over to their place for dinner, a group of Muslim men came to my door. I answered, and they asked if there were any Muslims at home. They said they had come straight from mosque and they wanted to share a prayer. Finding it was only me, they proceeded to other doors. But when they came back downstairs from the floors above, I intercepted them, and inquired about what they wanted to share, and why today. It turned out that today was a great day of prayer at the mosque, and they wanted to share what they were feeling with others who had not come. They were reminding other Muslims how great it is to be a Muslim, and how great Allah is. It was neat to hear about the passion they had felt inspired to go out as groups and share. Although I didn’t get to share a prayer with them since I don’t prayers in the Koran, I was glad to be an audience to them and to hear the messages they had come to talk about. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dinner at Jen and Ben’s was fun. Luke and Sam showed up as well, both were students with Jen last year in AIBS. Jen and Ben cooked tortillas and the appropriate fillings. It was delicious, and I ate a lot. Jen and Ben’s friends came over, two Bangladeshi girls, and this instantly changed the language of the evening to Bengali. Although they didn’t like the tortillas, we had a fun time talking with them for the hour or so they stayed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A story I wrote for Fulbright when they requested stories from Fulbrighters got posted on the front page of their website. See the link <a href="http://fulbright.state.gov/">here</a> and in the sidebar. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-4th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/14<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I really got back to work. I finished the pre-processing of all my buses I had collected data on, and then processed two of those. I did this all in two different restaurants, just to get out of the house.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had been at home all morning, doing photo stuff, getting things done online. I joined a website that allows you to find travel partners. Ever since Landon got word from his company that he can’t come with me to <st1:place>Southeast Asia</st1:place>, I’ve had a feeling of doom that I’ll be traveling alone. So I joined travelchums.com and a few others. Looking forward to seeing what happens.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I was also feeling real sick today for some reason. After being out working, I was feeling exhausted. Beat down. Weak. Worn out. I put a movie on and sat and enjoyed, didn’t feel like moving. After the movie was over, I just shut my eyes and slept right where I was. I was too tired to get up to brush my teeth or shower. Finally around <st1:time minute="0" hour="1">1AM</st1:time>, I woke up, showered, and went to my real bed.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-5th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/15<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Woke up feeling very refreshed. Got a reply on travelchums from someone wanting to travel. That was great! Hope more show up. Signed up for a bunch more travel buddy websites, and posted on a few message boards. Hope some of these are effective. I would think people who post on there, or are active, are actually wanting to make something of their time there.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Talked to Dad since it was Father’s Day. That was very nice. Would be great to be at home sharing it with him, would be a real treat.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Processed three buses today. Local buses take longer to process than ticket buses because there are more stops, and more boards and alights per stop, and the stops are longer. This all adds up to what feels like less productivity. I don’t get as frequent feelings of completion because I go through stops and buses so slowly.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Felt very sick again at night. Couldn’t take my cold shower. Wore a shirt to bed for the first time since winter. Then woke up middle of the night sweating. Was up for awhile lying in bed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-6th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/16<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today Shegufta had promised to start working with me on a more regular basis. We planned to meet in BUET’s computer lab at 10. I gave her the bus stop data to process. Although this takes a longer amount of time, I felt because it involved less types of data to work with while still requiring a fairly active regiment of work, as compared to uploading information to the database, it was fit best for her. As well, since it takes longer than the database entry, daily I can enter what she does the day before into the database quickly, and then move onto analyzing, which I haven’t done enough of yet. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Currently I’m learning visual basic and how to write macros and seeing how I can apply this to my project. This also involves making decisions on how I want to manage my data, and in what programs to analyze, and which to store.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Only hiccup of the day was when Shegufta lost all the work she’d done over 1.5 hours. I had warned her to save often because of the computer lab’s eventual power outage, and of course she didn’t save at all, and lost all her work when we lost power.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After she left, I stayed a bit longer working, and then headed out. I got in the elevator, and its doors closed, and just then the power went out. I was stuck. Then it came on, and the doors opened, and I decided it’d be smart to get out before the power goes off again, but before I could get out, the elevator reshut its doors (it seemed to be restarting a routine) and started going down. Just as we were going down the power went out again. I sat there wondering what happens when you’re stuck in an elevator when the power is out. Power went back on again, and the elevator started moving again, and reached the bottom floor, but the doors wouldn’t open. I was there for 10 minutes with some man outside telling me to “wait.” Then magically the doors opened, and he wasn’t even standing there, and I left the building.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I came home and spent a lot of time working on visual basic, learning more of what it can do and practicing writing small programs with my excel tables. I enjoy learning new programs, even though I don’t pursue new ones actively.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It got windy this evening, and a fluorescent light bulb that’d just been leaning on my balcony (Mohan left it here) got blown over and crashed, scattering glass everywhere. Had to clean that up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>41<sup>st</sup>-7th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/17<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="ej8b8e">Another day feeling a bit weak and tired. Not sure what’s wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="ej8b8e">At BUET Shegufta processed two buses for me, while I databased two, and then spent some writing, cleaning my data in the database, and fumbling around trying to get my Visual Basic operations to work.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="ej8b8e">Spending this time at BUET with Shegufta has allowed me to ask her what the giant bell is that rings at times throughout the day. She explained the bell announces exam times during the exam period, two hours left, one hour left, finish time. Heard all over campus. A neat idea that can stay a tradition for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="ej8b8e">Working in the lab more often now has allowed me to discover some of the annoyances. For one, the computers won’t allow me to run macros or visual basic operations. I don’t understand how an engineering university’s computers aren’t allowed to do this. I understand the worry that students might make harmful macros, but other universities worldwide seem to figure a way out around this.<o:p></o:p><br />Like many offices and schools, certain words are blocked from being to be searched through a search engine. I’ve discovered one of those words at BUET is “analysis”, a word which I think could be useful for people in the fields of science and math.<o:p></o:p><br />The last and most significant are the power outages. Since we are all on PCs, when the power goes out, all the PCs turn off. BUET does have a generator, but nothing more, so although power comes back quick, we lose anything that hasn’t been saved. And since the power outages come randomly, you have to save all the time. Not usually a big problem, but because the computers are slow, and my files are large, saving takes about fifteen seconds each time. This adds up and slows down productivity. Today, in five hours, we had six losses of power, one for about ten minutes. We just sit there in the dark.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>I've started to learn to read Hindi in preparation for traveling to India. It's not hard now that I already read Bengali with ease. I'm using an internet website that has simple pages with the characters on them and does it's best to make lessonsDonnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-36078577581494453042008-06-11T09:18:00.028+06:002008-06-13T13:20:48.157+06:00Week 40: Lake, hills, ocean, and sand: Cox's Bazar and Rangamati<b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/4<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a good night’s rest back at home, Ben and I headed over to Ayon’s for lunch. Farhan had come over as well, so Ben and him got to meet for the first time. Lunch was delicious as usual, and Ben got to experience Bangladeshi hospitality at its best, getting fed more food even after he felt he could eat no more. I think he thought he was going to burst. Afterwards we laid around for, essentially just letting the massive amount of food we ate digest. (pic: Farhan/Ben in an unplanned before/after picture of our very filling lunch at Ayon's house)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZXhP1O_1wtn5f3QwU8g6NoXnrWMc4sWC9XgH-iad1wG6EZUCQ96i5yRF_7rkW5eegoRDLSULHETvm7NoS1fZSy-bwlL2-aoQDq6sCFQs4uByw_jF4qLv6Q3aaxQ_eXWGOoqMJdlPLusj/s1600-h/DSC06981a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZXhP1O_1wtn5f3QwU8g6NoXnrWMc4sWC9XgH-iad1wG6EZUCQ96i5yRF_7rkW5eegoRDLSULHETvm7NoS1fZSy-bwlL2-aoQDq6sCFQs4uByw_jF4qLv6Q3aaxQ_eXWGOoqMJdlPLusj/s320/DSC06981a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856823204382674" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">From there we quickly went and bought bus tickets for ourselves and Jen and Ben to go to Rangamati this weekend. We got stuck with the back seats on the bus, and are hoping that won’t be too bad.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ayon, Farhan, Ben, and I took rickshaws down to the <st1:place><st1:placename>Buriganga</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>River</st1:placetype></st1:place> to see Old Dhaka and Ahsan Manzil. The river was just as busy as always, and we just missed the closing time of Ahsan Manzil, so we could only view it from outside its gates. We then got in a boat to tour the Buriganga for a bit. Although this is my fourth time doing this, it is my favorite thing to do in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, and each time provides new things to see. Today was my first time doing it at sunset. Farhan was very nervous, he didn’t like the busy atmosphere and being on the water in the middle of it. (pics: Farhan/Ben/Ayon on a boat in the Buriganga River, ship on the Buriganga River passing in front of Ahsan Manzil, sunset over the Buriganga, Ayon/myself in the boat, Ben on the Buriganga, two boatmen in front of a sunset on the Buriganga)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQgASrifRcyBgDq8e6zuF-8gkoxxqtkxchvfoWojBQ65BeuRSuxLGBgKaxndcOxXoovRyU1kICISQ3QzXVu8kkctBHSzNMiN5LRVvh9C8tO0R0o00v2Yo9v4CYHn2c0sgbyp9fex1jyZd/s1600-h/DSC06991.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQgASrifRcyBgDq8e6zuF-8gkoxxqtkxchvfoWojBQ65BeuRSuxLGBgKaxndcOxXoovRyU1kICISQ3QzXVu8kkctBHSzNMiN5LRVvh9C8tO0R0o00v2Yo9v4CYHn2c0sgbyp9fex1jyZd/s320/DSC06991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856833043337202" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8CGu3Iq3yGKYDa00v3pLKwQYm6012pTcZ3T39SO4cdHdN6eO56Vjkxb3HF4mFItK6UHBz7jWMa8cPYLzWEeF_yhurMVUa_x32wsycEEgnr3QFI2reQuB_H2_HUK26ccMDsBy-eYYlEkr/s1600-h/DSC06993.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8CGu3Iq3yGKYDa00v3pLKwQYm6012pTcZ3T39SO4cdHdN6eO56Vjkxb3HF4mFItK6UHBz7jWMa8cPYLzWEeF_yhurMVUa_x32wsycEEgnr3QFI2reQuB_H2_HUK26ccMDsBy-eYYlEkr/s320/DSC06993.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856835896696882" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WF1cEShXNtP8bxQgrSjE6Uwee6WRIU7T4HLksHvevpFNGaX6z_AlTR5X0FJeIDxwA7PvUxgivHRsfUMebcFESgAPLP20TOBIczMWUoxH9N7mu4nz_2xSV_CUbNhIeP8myeJn9mFfs8gV/s1600-h/DSC07000.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WF1cEShXNtP8bxQgrSjE6Uwee6WRIU7T4HLksHvevpFNGaX6z_AlTR5X0FJeIDxwA7PvUxgivHRsfUMebcFESgAPLP20TOBIczMWUoxH9N7mu4nz_2xSV_CUbNhIeP8myeJn9mFfs8gV/s320/DSC07000.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856845987327410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbTYOSUmZUtX5rS9OWaIXgIAcSq6x-XzcBI7kVU_6MQVX8cMSlIdsbkHTH4y9bXFjuL5AcG7F6p5gWyUPsAdFWMls0ZwDQfILd3jh6o3NcXXC1IdI5-z72IvHohNJtejyE0L84BiVOqEp/s1600-h/DSC07010a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbTYOSUmZUtX5rS9OWaIXgIAcSq6x-XzcBI7kVU_6MQVX8cMSlIdsbkHTH4y9bXFjuL5AcG7F6p5gWyUPsAdFWMls0ZwDQfILd3jh6o3NcXXC1IdI5-z72IvHohNJtejyE0L84BiVOqEp/s320/DSC07010a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210857636779764770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpLhbPxgF2_QHwNUiCfIhucVh3Ukd0S_6QX0783ZD2SLLntUerD_zD6LrVyoy8wYEguE1Kgkm-mvcigXNbhlSMii48IX-5dXhALosaZAVfDJ8kgoBkYMRHpobsiDO3-eaRH-Vo2p0E51f/s1600-h/DSC07016a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpLhbPxgF2_QHwNUiCfIhucVh3Ukd0S_6QX0783ZD2SLLntUerD_zD6LrVyoy8wYEguE1Kgkm-mvcigXNbhlSMii48IX-5dXhALosaZAVfDJ8kgoBkYMRHpobsiDO3-eaRH-Vo2p0E51f/s320/DSC07016a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210857647239604962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTnf9nbns4ScBgZmUwV3V2B_OGeJD62ZKQdJuTp7LkP45Ol_mCxuu76RuIR6XOp6nKN2QWWiiCviLMWK11I9_Nb5qtIM-eWMOYuw0qmAw11qaFsi_vEJ7W0RUxhlyik_nPGydfPvro01B/s1600-h/DSC07017a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTnf9nbns4ScBgZmUwV3V2B_OGeJD62ZKQdJuTp7LkP45Ol_mCxuu76RuIR6XOp6nKN2QWWiiCviLMWK11I9_Nb5qtIM-eWMOYuw0qmAw11qaFsi_vEJ7W0RUxhlyik_nPGydfPvro01B/s320/DSC07017a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210857650976356418" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Farhan and Ayon left after that, while Ben and I headed over to the Hindu area of Old Dhaka to look at some of the jewelry shops, and to look into buying some pink pearls. We bought some individual ones in the idea of turning them into cuff links. (pic: weighing pink pearls in Old Dhaka)<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ouSQdXswul5xxU8bFfRfeOBuNSbsB_ccr-JueACDz0y56w5HJLBxpVgIoWuBErgN0LokD7LZxQm_j81aDiUbqmptandZimr7ZETLR09IDzj0VD4bIO-aZRi4xoQuRQmGPQb5klopq3An/s1600-h/DSC07032.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ouSQdXswul5xxU8bFfRfeOBuNSbsB_ccr-JueACDz0y56w5HJLBxpVgIoWuBErgN0LokD7LZxQm_j81aDiUbqmptandZimr7ZETLR09IDzj0VD4bIO-aZRi4xoQuRQmGPQb5klopq3An/s320/DSC07032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856854610235602" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/5<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today is 9 months.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We both posted our blogs today, and thus ended up spending a lot of time at home. We took turns, and it took the majority of the day. We broke for lunch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But just so you don’t think we spent all day lounging at home, we went out to <st1:place><st1:placename>Bashundara</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>City</st1:placetype></st1:place> in the evening. I bought some DVDs that I’d wanted to see and some Ben recommended to me. We walked each floor, but not intending to buy much. Also got a pre-bus ride snack, a dosa. (pic: Ben poses in front of the eight-floored Bashundara City's central atrium)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhNn6qjoXFpTs4LuIwgIP-0OCRgpljpK1yPpm9viYCeocuSoD1lnZDFwMpxjK02WFB2qJvfyCNkG-tk4KsEdOQ-TwEO7mvW8c0iI2gMwrTjARCUZHcuQVv_RH9BPgY6MD8xAmRPY3t8qt/s1600-h/DSC07037.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhNn6qjoXFpTs4LuIwgIP-0OCRgpljpK1yPpm9viYCeocuSoD1lnZDFwMpxjK02WFB2qJvfyCNkG-tk4KsEdOQ-TwEO7mvW8c0iI2gMwrTjARCUZHcuQVv_RH9BPgY6MD8xAmRPY3t8qt/s320/DSC07037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210487858126260914" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We came home and got our stuff prepared for our trip. Lastly we headed out to the bus station to catch our night bus to Rangamati. Jen and Ben met us there. It left about a half hour late, and the back seats ended up being pretty bumpy. Would not choose those again if I didn’t have to. But I did my best to sleep. At least it was AC, overall I didn’t mind.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-3rd in Rangamati 6/6<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We arrived in the morning at Rangamati. We had to go through several security checkposts, and each one had my nerves running full speed. I was worried we’d be denied for an odd reason. Well things went fine, we checked in to a handshake and a smile at the first checkpost and wrote our names and information, didn’t need to get off the bus for a handshake and some question asking at the second, and the third without a smile or a handshake required us to write our names and info again. Then we were in! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The road up was really windy curvy, and a bit scary. I started feeling nausea and so did Jen. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">At one point the bus driver, who was clearly driving faster than I would’ve chose even in a car, caused the bus to swerve. It fishtailed several times as we went around a turn, and it was scary, very scary. The second it finished the bus riders exploded in yells and told the driver to take it easy!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Rangamati is a town based on a series of islands. The lake which surrounds the city, and winds through the islands is <st1:place><st1:placename>Kaptai</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>. It is man-made by the damming of the <st1:place><st1:placename>Karnaphuli</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>River</st1:placetype></st1:place> which runs through <st1:city><st1:place>Chittagong</st1:place></st1:city>, which occurred 1960s. The dam provides power for <st1:city><st1:place>Chittagong</st1:place></st1:city>. When the dam was first built, it flooded the entire area, and caused the tribal people living there to move to higher ground. The palace of the king of these tribes is now underwater! Thus the city is the tops of several hills, now islands. Small bridges and causeways connect them all, forming a city that has a very unique character for the country. There are no rickshaws as the hills are too big, and instead CNGs work as a jitney system. One main road goes through all the islands and it is here that most of the activity occurs.</p>Our hotel, Hotel Sufia, was on the water's edge. My room with Ben had a toilet that didn't refill after you flushed and the bathroom light was out, but it was nice hotel otherwise. The back of it had a dock that led down to the lake. (pics: view out of the back of our hotel onto Kaptai Lake, Jen/Ben/Ben on the stairs to our hotel's dock with a goat with green horns climbing up) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGsKiGkJZl0u_pm6ZijRpqJlbD0be47xt9YBZPNbY9D111s5udLChWI_juljECPeZf2gRsqYp_A3dh54noUlVRvUMb1Qw-DHl9nXCCjx1zeZeJE0-cjlbo6yKOQvKkhLTZa2sPeuRJWP3/s1600-h/DSC07043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGsKiGkJZl0u_pm6ZijRpqJlbD0be47xt9YBZPNbY9D111s5udLChWI_juljECPeZf2gRsqYp_A3dh54noUlVRvUMb1Qw-DHl9nXCCjx1zeZeJE0-cjlbo6yKOQvKkhLTZa2sPeuRJWP3/s320/DSC07043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210487939297010562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuveZMkLcfUbNmqcFHSxTCyHOUbILCnbnFQBt9T00k_LcRe3VrCzOfwAqMSZ_bTNpQ4wDIXqhltNVMslohIxS2gfcO2uRqyEy28Mu76lVxh6Uz-VGxhlJBUu3vhKJjkgBy3MBJ4gATpQ9/s1600-h/DSC07046.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuveZMkLcfUbNmqcFHSxTCyHOUbILCnbnFQBt9T00k_LcRe3VrCzOfwAqMSZ_bTNpQ4wDIXqhltNVMslohIxS2gfcO2uRqyEy28Mu76lVxh6Uz-VGxhlJBUu3vhKJjkgBy3MBJ4gATpQ9/s320/DSC07046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210487952823278370" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">After resting up, and a small lunch, we went on a walk that was suggested to us by a friend. It started out on one of the furthest out and most developed islands. From there we crossed several bridges to go between three more islands before coming back to the main road. The hike was very interesting. Although following a road the whole way, it had plenty of climbs and drops, and brought us past several villages. (pics: Ben posing on a bridge on our hike through Rangamati's islands, Ben with Rangamati's hills and dried up lake in the background, Jen/Ben/Ben cross a bride which seems to be missing a few pieces)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6YbFCDNqjNjYkBmUPrvLIm6pvMUG2JfY49K2L2ECIDlOGjC9CS-HXvsUttqYulv7g_j21lJLXT6BF2OeKSu2HxHTwtf4Z8k6Ws1QXSwnPa8IG5l5I_oyQPSnQKT_VEDt-H9Rat-vgKxz/s1600-h/DSC07080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6YbFCDNqjNjYkBmUPrvLIm6pvMUG2JfY49K2L2ECIDlOGjC9CS-HXvsUttqYulv7g_j21lJLXT6BF2OeKSu2HxHTwtf4Z8k6Ws1QXSwnPa8IG5l5I_oyQPSnQKT_VEDt-H9Rat-vgKxz/s320/DSC07080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210491892450469778" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cYsYQ67-n5693d_IUwXp6FwfnTh0bsX9sCtnhbw79F1Ik0Gsb-T7_mbkZuHxeViBHIiOxcmnkK6kjhIobOTmXq-C9EsAeD4zahx11TVhGX7cTHx8YWfOg4luLm_WMVoA31ztcVi6wzaC/s1600-h/DSC07052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cYsYQ67-n5693d_IUwXp6FwfnTh0bsX9sCtnhbw79F1Ik0Gsb-T7_mbkZuHxeViBHIiOxcmnkK6kjhIobOTmXq-C9EsAeD4zahx11TVhGX7cTHx8YWfOg4luLm_WMVoA31ztcVi6wzaC/s320/DSC07052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210487977976119938" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhun-f_uh8oA5IgorTf61PIXSSWZVqdCiy9jTYIGGAaI_NTIiKXTfQczzMA0xta4pDO2kuCSWroNaf-RmtKhEdgKBDYTRYPGkyW5mOuIxS7rCDP3Iu2-Wp5tGwW_59V0VBprh7tyHPuGAJZ/s1600-h/DSC07083.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhun-f_uh8oA5IgorTf61PIXSSWZVqdCiy9jTYIGGAaI_NTIiKXTfQczzMA0xta4pDO2kuCSWroNaf-RmtKhEdgKBDYTRYPGkyW5mOuIxS7rCDP3Iu2-Wp5tGwW_59V0VBprh7tyHPuGAJZ/s320/DSC07083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210491911377047250" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">At one point we stopped in at a bamboo structure which housed eleven looms. Since it was Friday, it wasn’t fully operating, but two loomers were there, and we asked these two men, and the crowd around us about the work, how the looms operate, and where the products go. Found out a lot about their village and its history, as well as why these businesses exist here in the hill tracts and not in the major cities. (pic: Ben inside the loom workshop, movie: loom worker performing his trade)<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVE5h1rRgrRGQO696TagE87b6cyzTC9JrzXjS2kpee1wiUK3R2qhoGAG2awWy_1MzZirzNbBFEziUzghB52nj8yMC9k-qwli9emqC1a782VhQi49uAudq-1Va0hziJM2yu-sdEVtQrtgJV/s1600-h/DSC07060.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVE5h1rRgrRGQO696TagE87b6cyzTC9JrzXjS2kpee1wiUK3R2qhoGAG2awWy_1MzZirzNbBFEziUzghB52nj8yMC9k-qwli9emqC1a782VhQi49uAudq-1Va0hziJM2yu-sdEVtQrtgJV/s320/DSC07060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210491885562300130" border="0" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='321' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwQXKevAgv777RV51rPBuZYmpYzAucVM5jR41kqpiq9nliWJomOo1Kuegttq7oCRaq56NjJ5N2javNcBZK1MA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Later we came upon a small Buddhist temple and monastery. We talked to some of the children and monks who were there. Then some of the kids led us across the street to a Hindu temple, where people were just leaving from a <st1:time hour="12" minute="0">midday</st1:time> gathering of prayer. They asked us to sit, and offered us some of the sweets they had made of coconut and rice. As well, they served us kichuri. Despite already eating lunch, we put the food in our stomachs. (pic: Hindu temple and its visitors where we were served food along the road we hiked in Rangamati)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEU70X2Sa8wQCSVwoyZKMiPVXYSdi3A4Xd4tcyEOQyZ6HMRnKS2kFVrA7Im12uMoktu5v4fxhrY7mzFVSKVeUFallyqmD6cnswi7sHca53wCPeQCduzSrzpNxDvzeUlxWdSl7O2pL0Yuym/s1600-h/DSC07072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEU70X2Sa8wQCSVwoyZKMiPVXYSdi3A4Xd4tcyEOQyZ6HMRnKS2kFVrA7Im12uMoktu5v4fxhrY7mzFVSKVeUFallyqmD6cnswi7sHca53wCPeQCduzSrzpNxDvzeUlxWdSl7O2pL0Yuym/s320/DSC07072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210491890992630034" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />The entire hike we were questioned by locals about our home nation and why we’d come to <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. It was a good 3 hours or so, and we were tired by the end. We came out near New Market, and there we bought our bus tickets for going our separate ways in two days (Ben and Jen to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, Ben and I to Cox’s Bazar.) (pics: view over the hills of Rangamati, crossing a dried up part of the lake by a bamboo bridge where you would usually have to ferry across)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_ribDazxnP18NY2B5UOc0cstqQdqIQIHdWi5DA5ByZmv5kb7NJmaK02wGeuV9kLOfjDacsELgGjklXroHtb50feLCuYXZS66XMA3mOasQFvhruvL0bNrIPneM3xkXRRLsndZXsoFS-0b/s1600-h/DSC07087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_ribDazxnP18NY2B5UOc0cstqQdqIQIHdWi5DA5ByZmv5kb7NJmaK02wGeuV9kLOfjDacsELgGjklXroHtb50feLCuYXZS66XMA3mOasQFvhruvL0bNrIPneM3xkXRRLsndZXsoFS-0b/s320/DSC07087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210491903160025106" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2TjfunxUC6F_pYRfdYhJztk-1xyQoh5G_4N75kCcoAOgbqTpEXwMLkUpDOA3YAAPmyPDhmrinSn6hdjlQi6T4ZR9VHsONSxmvw9GMv7nGOif9G1Bsnl7aZw1b1S5Pi6PxEdv3RV5Q8_N/s1600-h/DSC07090.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2TjfunxUC6F_pYRfdYhJztk-1xyQoh5G_4N75kCcoAOgbqTpEXwMLkUpDOA3YAAPmyPDhmrinSn6hdjlQi6T4ZR9VHsONSxmvw9GMv7nGOif9G1Bsnl7aZw1b1S5Pi6PxEdv3RV5Q8_N/s320/DSC07090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210853405840615074" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">In the evening we went out to dinner at the Roof Top Restaurant a restaurant that specialized in serving food indigenous to the tribal cultures of the region. We tried bamboo and chicken dishes cooked in traditional ways. It was a nice break from the typical Bangladeshi cuisine. The place also had a nice open air atmosphere.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-4th in Rangamati 6/7<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Under suggestion from our friend, Ben and I headed next door for breakfast, as opposed to taking the free breakfast at our hotel. It’s the same food, but we were told the hotel’s food was very oily. We sat down next door and then got approached by a man…the hotel owner! He asked us why we weren’t going to take our free breakfast at the hotel. He seemed hurt. I asked him why he was eating here and not at the hotel. Seems a bit ironic that he chooses not to eat at his own restaurant.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today we had planned to go out on <st1:place><st1:placename>Kaptai</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>. As foreigners, to do this, we have to have police escorts. This is a requirement which is annoying, but can have repercussion if you don’t follow the rule. The region has had bursts of violence, many times targeting tourists in recent years, so despite their not being any present current threat, the police are still required. So in the morning I had to take a CNG with a hotel staff member across town to a police station, where we had to bring back 3 police escorts! When we arrived they were still in their pajamas, so I had to wait 30 minutes while they changed into their uniforms. I had to pay the large taxi fare both ways. The police officers all had guns to protect us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The lake is currently very low, just before the monsoon season. Islands are showing that would normally be under water during typical water levels. As well, the trees start about 40 feet up every bank. Our hotel would actually be right on the water, but currently it sits 40 feet above water level, hanging out over the land on its stilts. However, I don’t think the low water level detracted from the prettiness of the region. It was neat in fact to see hints of what the land looked like before it was flooded. Made me also realize how careful boat drivers have to be during all seasons not to drive over the tops of hills just under the water’s surface! (pics: the city of Rangamati as seen from Kaptai Lake at low water level)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRk9VHKu97jGHd0kM1z9Pz-CQDD-TE86L3YXEDEovok0-q3xjzLru366Sjvj4nSKpi2hQ7ieQquCvvY4trQQcA_A_cZRBQVCgvi5cBrSZclAO40QRvtcswWVcxStAGtrEgsBrs6jKmipY/s1600-h/DSC07101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRk9VHKu97jGHd0kM1z9Pz-CQDD-TE86L3YXEDEovok0-q3xjzLru366Sjvj4nSKpi2hQ7ieQquCvvY4trQQcA_A_cZRBQVCgvi5cBrSZclAO40QRvtcswWVcxStAGtrEgsBrs6jKmipY/s320/DSC07101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210853408896673762" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Our boat was about 30 feet long, and had chairs for us and our police escorts. The boat driver sat in back and operated the two stroke engine and the rudder. We could stand or sit out on the bow if we pleased. The lake was very pretty, and when the engine was off, very quiet. It had villages all around its sides, and boats crossing it with people on board. Boats all about the same size as ours. We headed through, and Ben and I realized at one point we were heading on the river’s original course as the sides of the banks were rock, and were shaped as though they weren’t just land that had been flooded. (pics: boats docked at Shuvalong on Kaptai Lake, Jen/Ben on the boat with police officers in the background for protection, bow of our boat as we travel across Kaptai Lake)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzr8tIf0cJDQU7-uTRGenT3mVci_ja5NG5diqCq-i2rTi6cZ4zyPCWEN_-Fx7Qt-XcC5l3thSp2-sO9R6v4oDKwaT4YZ-JfZjpYvT6pKxmChvGmnw434PRt0Sapc8avXorxz3DvuHxVF7/s1600-h/DSC07118.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzr8tIf0cJDQU7-uTRGenT3mVci_ja5NG5diqCq-i2rTi6cZ4zyPCWEN_-Fx7Qt-XcC5l3thSp2-sO9R6v4oDKwaT4YZ-JfZjpYvT6pKxmChvGmnw434PRt0Sapc8avXorxz3DvuHxVF7/s320/DSC07118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210853429559801570" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjh-k-fkZIo-iu0LUpJeATZNWHkdUAB0O7bkabqCPa8GXFKHzm-8ioAdJEHhMOnNHapTXE-T_BuuBG-Wz4hzTMESP4UpRhyeWhSI53HxHHkUuRe6M-F0RM5WkDdmHLo_Mtc-o7HjFWVCb/s1600-h/DSC07110.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjh-k-fkZIo-iu0LUpJeATZNWHkdUAB0O7bkabqCPa8GXFKHzm-8ioAdJEHhMOnNHapTXE-T_BuuBG-Wz4hzTMESP4UpRhyeWhSI53HxHHkUuRe6M-F0RM5WkDdmHLo_Mtc-o7HjFWVCb/s320/DSC07110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210853418373525842" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoDz0aIbyYPxnnLuRlAWzxfSvnzUfZAHPV3lq-vop-SqW8YAGcF2-FSX11JzfMidCsKWNaP-z9Zwnb-Nu-BnwO4FSpSkGxvIJ2adHueRn1kzP6bb3Qwv8yAN0gMMpDnlOWXpqt5SnNqgn/s1600-h/DSC07116.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoDz0aIbyYPxnnLuRlAWzxfSvnzUfZAHPV3lq-vop-SqW8YAGcF2-FSX11JzfMidCsKWNaP-z9Zwnb-Nu-BnwO4FSpSkGxvIJ2adHueRn1kzP6bb3Qwv8yAN0gMMpDnlOWXpqt5SnNqgn/s320/DSC07116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210853424076482354" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">In this area we stopped at Shuvalong Waterfall, which had a very low flow, only able to be seen from up close. So, we got up as close as we could. All of us guys climbed the waterfall’s bottom most rocks. This was not easy in the sandals Ben and I had on. (pics: Ben at the base of the waterfall (in orange) while Ben and I are a level below (in gray and blue), Shuvalong waterfall at a low flow)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLZTEm3u7vcuqw1LKrr39_aIv45UFpcyhVeYrT2jyRchyphenhyphenRb2cR_zXUZrR-1La7B69SUvf6-wj-dzbIpJKHYhbSlBxa3uveE-mB0gnIbTfQ5kSoTwvIl0J_b95pg9-fkFMZFs1ubsTaddc/s1600-h/DSC07133a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLZTEm3u7vcuqw1LKrr39_aIv45UFpcyhVeYrT2jyRchyphenhyphenRb2cR_zXUZrR-1La7B69SUvf6-wj-dzbIpJKHYhbSlBxa3uveE-mB0gnIbTfQ5kSoTwvIl0J_b95pg9-fkFMZFs1ubsTaddc/s320/DSC07133a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210857658525443618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgE4l348w3sSV-Kir883y-hqxaEh1Ztt71aoCd5pNi3zSFZlPVULmWwQVFP4fx9H0iAtG2WGBZ0h9vrMu7oaTYEc5JkQHHc8AUWlXWWCxtgOs2kZHsgeVsrmjT-8xC13p1PnjtKIpDw3Gu/s1600-h/DSC07124a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgE4l348w3sSV-Kir883y-hqxaEh1Ztt71aoCd5pNi3zSFZlPVULmWwQVFP4fx9H0iAtG2WGBZ0h9vrMu7oaTYEc5JkQHHc8AUWlXWWCxtgOs2kZHsgeVsrmjT-8xC13p1PnjtKIpDw3Gu/s320/DSC07124a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210857654809108242" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We had lunch at Cheng Peng Restaurant, and had some chicken cooked inside a bamboo shoot, along with rice. The views from the restaurant, which is the middle of the lake on top of an island, are of the city and the surrounding water. We walked to the top of the island for a better view. We also had to pay for the police escort’s lunch, which on top of the tips we gave them at the end of the day, was all we had to do for their accompaniment. (pics: view of Kaptai Lake from Cheng Peng Restauarnt on an island in the middle of the lake, myself/Ben posing in front of Kaptai Lake)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTPLiMMTGLo2KVOuDKp_599xS4UNTyTFH-mlRUzT272GSg2IzMlxBLV2bENixgqigEc2OYtb82_ilMK_tsXRqwBhAYbwiiArBWiRjy-84rAExyz0V8Dcn00GRxCtQVfM5WBoFa5d9y_dJ/s1600-h/DSC07160a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTPLiMMTGLo2KVOuDKp_599xS4UNTyTFH-mlRUzT272GSg2IzMlxBLV2bENixgqigEc2OYtb82_ilMK_tsXRqwBhAYbwiiArBWiRjy-84rAExyz0V8Dcn00GRxCtQVfM5WBoFa5d9y_dJ/s320/DSC07160a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211193201420089794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWt5kf7rfjLOgAxKIZIB7UuGMxpqKfb-hJTB9dhxSyiAwYkuN6KC-6jbmS8zQJImArcW740m1YKw4SdVD833Nev_OwGQn27jfbS6jqSFJuqc0fSJBMxRUw_CH8Pnn6ssiGEdmKEPQSWSH/s1600-h/DSC07164a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWt5kf7rfjLOgAxKIZIB7UuGMxpqKfb-hJTB9dhxSyiAwYkuN6KC-6jbmS8zQJImArcW740m1YKw4SdVD833Nev_OwGQn27jfbS6jqSFJuqc0fSJBMxRUw_CH8Pnn6ssiGEdmKEPQSWSH/s320/DSC07164a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211193212918032834" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Midway between these two places it started to rain. It stopped, but a second burst came later, and at this point the boat driver insisted on going back to port. We missed out on seeing the hanging bridge on the other side of Rangamati, the king’s current palace, and a Chakma Buddhist temple. The rain stayed on when we got back to the hotel, and meanwhile we played my favorite Bangladeshi card game “29” until past the rain’s end. Dinner was shrimp cooked inside a bamboo shoot. (pics: rain pours down as we hide in a rocky cove of Kaptai Lake, Ben/Ben watch as rain pours down around us as we travel)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNuGq1tjCIzohAcyHB8QiMi5Jj-CHjiyrqHjPdP8xnV12RTGRDj59I3RaE5xDFExAmd-8Ig1OHaYAkv38si8vXroxPszHbChyNXXkZnpRfRDX6c8KrhjmVIqEUk5uZBHbCHwMySI7q5mO/s1600-h/DSC07142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNuGq1tjCIzohAcyHB8QiMi5Jj-CHjiyrqHjPdP8xnV12RTGRDj59I3RaE5xDFExAmd-8Ig1OHaYAkv38si8vXroxPszHbChyNXXkZnpRfRDX6c8KrhjmVIqEUk5uZBHbCHwMySI7q5mO/s320/DSC07142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211193195880660962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPtsoRa_g6kzGrcxfOoH1xZ54tR-NCRB0ZLiJMaNTA8HbPbR_UEo5fv1-9CJ2CvOfDoa3Xv577L_MKnPY9t2MpwVQ8JBHelk8Yq_JHQp1uyFYkT1jrZSKltqiIL2Wd3pGb4tkTE-HvfvW/s1600-h/DSC07146a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPtsoRa_g6kzGrcxfOoH1xZ54tR-NCRB0ZLiJMaNTA8HbPbR_UEo5fv1-9CJ2CvOfDoa3Xv577L_MKnPY9t2MpwVQ8JBHelk8Yq_JHQp1uyFYkT1jrZSKltqiIL2Wd3pGb4tkTE-HvfvW/s320/DSC07146a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211193201317695586" border="0" /></a><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ouSQdXswul5xxU8bFfRfeOBuNSbsB_ccr-JueACDz0y56w5HJLBxpVgIoWuBErgN0LokD7LZxQm_j81aDiUbqmptandZimr7ZETLR09IDzj0VD4bIO-aZRi4xoQuRQmGPQb5klopq3An/s1600-h/DSC07032.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-5th in Cox’s Bazar 6/8<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ben and I got up early to leave the hotel, and picked up the bus outside on the curb. This first bus ride brought us to <st1:city><st1:place>Chittagong</st1:place></st1:city>. We had to sign out at the checkpost. We arrived in <st1:city><st1:place>Chittagong</st1:place></st1:city> after 2.5 hours, then had to get a rickshaw across the north side of the city to the bus station at which we could catch buses to Cox’s Bazar. The scenery on the way down was highlighted by the hills of Bandarban to our east the entire time. Otherwise, it was typical Bangladeshi scenery. Ben and I listened to a mix he had made of songs from our crew days the entire way down.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After arriving we changed into swimsuits, went and bought bus tickets home for the next night, and also got some snacks as we hadn’t really eaten yet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then we headed to beach! It was a gorgeous sunny day, but we have no pictures as we didn’t bring our cameras because we wanted to go swimming. The water was warm, and playing around was tons of fun. The water also had a strong current, and we kept finding ourselves far from where we’d entered. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Walked south from <st1:street><st1:address>Sea Beach Road</st1:address></st1:street> where we had first gotten to the beach. The sand was decently soft. There were very few beachgoers at first, but we found them all later, clustered around a 200m long stretch where there were umbrellas and chairs, a bit of a corralling effect. Didn’t seem like people left this spot. Just in front of reaching this, we found a large sea turtle shell. Inside the remnants of a turtle were still there, and wild dogs were picking at its bones and eating what was left of its flesh. There were large lifeguard stands that had the signs “<st1:place><st1:placename>Watch</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Bay</st1:placetype></st1:place>” on it, perhaps a reference to the popular show Baywatch? Farther south as the land curved, we saw hills towering over the seas. The dunes next to the sea were all well covered with vegetation: small greenery closer to the sea and coniferous trees behind that. Much better protected for erosion than beaches in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region>. (pics: the only place on the long beach that people were hanging out at in Cox's Bazar, tree and shrub covered dunes in Cox's Bazar)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SZtSLlIXdIo5sZOcrs94a1DWMStYM7XCtEoGeKnKRQF_yyVrVTLDNmgX7MeNYgbBo1T84Rny1WIciiA5tc0ml_u2BnKJ3Zd6c72QQG9WXraRnJ3-Nxj0NaHoe1bAmVMnXLuffqjUsicY/s1600-h/aDSC07225.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SZtSLlIXdIo5sZOcrs94a1DWMStYM7XCtEoGeKnKRQF_yyVrVTLDNmgX7MeNYgbBo1T84Rny1WIciiA5tc0ml_u2BnKJ3Zd6c72QQG9WXraRnJ3-Nxj0NaHoe1bAmVMnXLuffqjUsicY/s320/aDSC07225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211238428175605170" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglh6Uz4ASRTNjeki0q0PAO90NA5YXSZDsw4XOXgH-kuAHM3hlsoT6oM8vi9WA5CUaB8p1DjvSC5_iq53ExCwNB16_NP8p-kz52JEFoaGBFqVA1Fmn3KECF2Sd4smL2TuzTxgzvAO_3b1B5/s1600-h/aDSC07223.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglh6Uz4ASRTNjeki0q0PAO90NA5YXSZDsw4XOXgH-kuAHM3hlsoT6oM8vi9WA5CUaB8p1DjvSC5_iq53ExCwNB16_NP8p-kz52JEFoaGBFqVA1Fmn3KECF2Sd4smL2TuzTxgzvAO_3b1B5/s320/aDSC07223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211238425031439282" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We walked back up to where we started, enjoying the last of the sun before it set behind some clouds.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night we went to a restaurant we had heard good things about from several of my friends. It is called Mermaid Café and is right on the beach side. You pull up by rickshaw to see a giant sign for the restaurant, but no restaurant. You inquire to a man sitting by the sign about it, and he will then lead you on a 5 minute walk along the beach by flashlight between the dunes. Our friend had warned us about this, otherwise we would’ve been a bit apprehensive. But instead it was a really cool way to approach the restaurant. We could see it from the distance all lit up in lights, and could hear music as we approached. It was in the style of a beach bungalow, lit by hanging lights. The man with the flashlight brought us right to the entrance and then went back to get more guests. (pics: Mermaid Cafe in Cox's Bazar at night, Ben happy to enjoy a crepe in Bangladesh)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Gz3Gg5poaWDJFI_XvQ10pVzLGbYaXoq1bx3GpEK0GOZeByMiVuE__cbB1towDLPGLqJXgXlQ4S9msWzMgPgv7GKTrTbvUo8iebQ8cChytI88ixwArEfvA98PfVxXB4s7IXP_8DA9VGvw/s1600-h/DSC07176a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Gz3Gg5poaWDJFI_XvQ10pVzLGbYaXoq1bx3GpEK0GOZeByMiVuE__cbB1towDLPGLqJXgXlQ4S9msWzMgPgv7GKTrTbvUo8iebQ8cChytI88ixwArEfvA98PfVxXB4s7IXP_8DA9VGvw/s320/DSC07176a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211232609678345314" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1PZzsZZIl7ReeQRB8CpudBCNPyg_PDuEiaBIxdhrPoiP6UNJPIgZ2urUkkOouKH-_g_SEmE49_rNl5ASJoT4huYjr6XcUQA1UK4tFS5UBkOzrDFzd3uTZ5eI6o7bZaFCWpf1hbMUp5R2/s1600-h/aDSC07177.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1PZzsZZIl7ReeQRB8CpudBCNPyg_PDuEiaBIxdhrPoiP6UNJPIgZ2urUkkOouKH-_g_SEmE49_rNl5ASJoT4huYjr6XcUQA1UK4tFS5UBkOzrDFzd3uTZ5eI6o7bZaFCWpf1hbMUp5R2/s320/aDSC07177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211232594342337570" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The food was great. A great selection of seafood served in a variety of styles. They also had crepes for desert. They invited us to see their kitchen and a small art gallery they keep on premises.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-6th in Cox’s Bazar 6/9<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A trip to <st1:place><st1:placename>Maheskhali</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Island</st1:placetype></st1:place> was suggested to us by Aaron, so in the morning we headed over to the <st1:place><st1:placetype>port</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>Cox</st1:placename></st1:place>’s Bazar to take a speedboat over to the island, about a 15 minute ride away. The tide was out, so in order to reach the speedboat, we had to walk over strung together thin boats that worked as a temporary dock. We had to pay a small fee to both get onto the real dock, and another walk along the temporary dock. (pics: seafaring boats at dock in Cox's Bazar with people paying the dock fee to ride the boats to Maheskhali Island, the string of small boats used as a dock extension)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3cjiGFepa9AHWzVz6LW4jkFgyARBMJdzpYjTvtoI6zPIYu7pAqLfhOyCLYvNzi7P-aJLGhHaZQyLy0yPQ7eG4LHEoJcz3i8wac_gWktsJ0RTzgUbQzda6Cf20U9biML1iKf_FFlRt9AV/s1600-h/aDSC07181.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3cjiGFepa9AHWzVz6LW4jkFgyARBMJdzpYjTvtoI6zPIYu7pAqLfhOyCLYvNzi7P-aJLGhHaZQyLy0yPQ7eG4LHEoJcz3i8wac_gWktsJ0RTzgUbQzda6Cf20U9biML1iKf_FFlRt9AV/s320/aDSC07181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211232598475974370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7RpKaia2Mzv_M9IrH9ux2nUKlvzxo1esy-6C1GjbrVpiZv4aPI3L7M6rv58ipQYvi-IlXpAn-xt0Rx-FVw9h8GdKADt-hLHJPqtbXAiwhiiPfgTEPypgXNumNswkHuFK4B4zprO7fOG7/s1600-h/aDSC07183.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7RpKaia2Mzv_M9IrH9ux2nUKlvzxo1esy-6C1GjbrVpiZv4aPI3L7M6rv58ipQYvi-IlXpAn-xt0Rx-FVw9h8GdKADt-hLHJPqtbXAiwhiiPfgTEPypgXNumNswkHuFK4B4zprO7fOG7/s320/aDSC07183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211232603561046162" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Upon getting to the island, we were surrounded by rickshaw wallahs before we could even leave the boat. They were all crowding the temporary dock of strung together boats. And they followed us up onto the jetty. A bit impractical as there wasn’t much space up there anyway. Well we decided to not take a rickshaw and get some breakfast in town instead. Two rickshaws, however, followed us along the entire jetty and into town asking us to ride with them, at least a quarter of a mile. I’d never seen such persistence. They then waited outside the place we ate at hoping to get our business. That kind of annoyed us, so we decided to take a different rickshaw after breakfast.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We first stopped at a Buddhist temple complex within the town. They had several images of the Buddha housed in a variety of temples. A man there explained only a little to us about the place. He did tell us the island had a population of 200,000 people. I was shocked. Had no clue it was so big, but looking at a map later, I realized how big of an island it actually was. The same rickshaw then took us to the next spot.n the east side of the island there are decently tall hills. (pics: Buddhist monastery on Maheskhali Island, stupa next to the monastery in Maheskhali)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5p_cpvl47u2B7sMudCyrMYJK6iVBy2_M1ArQrh348LM9WFpmUFo2wG7mUAqhV1KMe4qsyjiwCqKfsOjXSQtQpUQKqDo9L1DnmWSBKJ4j7sAW_kDyoNUeRXx09Z5-8aX6LaB9j27gHwkn/s1600-h/aDSC07190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5p_cpvl47u2B7sMudCyrMYJK6iVBy2_M1ArQrh348LM9WFpmUFo2wG7mUAqhV1KMe4qsyjiwCqKfsOjXSQtQpUQKqDo9L1DnmWSBKJ4j7sAW_kDyoNUeRXx09Z5-8aX6LaB9j27gHwkn/s320/aDSC07190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211232608009099218" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvb45hYy-b139UvpGwSV_MvWXfA0OizZJ3PUdb-z3gRvJPUSWQFhTDrccdXTHW3ENrxV4ZgZwYVRALQ0vY6ljPLt9nNIE0cnhtvPcGovQM9Jzn_Uw21SKIjvvAEZBDB8UP-BfxnAlMMpf/s1600-h/aDSC07194.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvb45hYy-b139UvpGwSV_MvWXfA0OizZJ3PUdb-z3gRvJPUSWQFhTDrccdXTHW3ENrxV4ZgZwYVRALQ0vY6ljPLt9nNIE0cnhtvPcGovQM9Jzn_Uw21SKIjvvAEZBDB8UP-BfxnAlMMpf/s320/aDSC07194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211237772565221490" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">On top of one of these hills there was a Hindu temple and a Buddhist stupa. We looked at both and also enjoyed the views of the island. (pics: view of the hills of Maheskhali island with a hut on top of one, view of the city of Maheskhali on the island) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_VagdZ0Xi7nPn0CDd00WXEmR3DLU1V-s2rFnKcmTy2xPivgrHy7XVUq0Jq4cuLpdDQOgUxvHb5bGebhB1xt8fIsEmhYbm_XxiQhoDOs0IAaTdzCmtr8_YzIdpFZ_mC0g-LQYaYO65aHE/s1600-h/aDSC07199.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_VagdZ0Xi7nPn0CDd00WXEmR3DLU1V-s2rFnKcmTy2xPivgrHy7XVUq0Jq4cuLpdDQOgUxvHb5bGebhB1xt8fIsEmhYbm_XxiQhoDOs0IAaTdzCmtr8_YzIdpFZ_mC0g-LQYaYO65aHE/s320/aDSC07199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211237777407844258" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsR3SBTYZib43ywNhw5YLmUOwsVeqTSKDtyyh2uNWVoBFK6ZmkWh_eqtesvKfuMuzNL8bTQhMhQW1gNeqXquP9ExxdQmxTfcLlVlfIddJbggYhZecIkVk8n1SbFzxxCN_BRWyF9xEFHf8/s1600-h/aDSC07204.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsR3SBTYZib43ywNhw5YLmUOwsVeqTSKDtyyh2uNWVoBFK6ZmkWh_eqtesvKfuMuzNL8bTQhMhQW1gNeqXquP9ExxdQmxTfcLlVlfIddJbggYhZecIkVk8n1SbFzxxCN_BRWyF9xEFHf8/s320/aDSC07204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211237776544091058" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">At the bottom of the hill when we got down the same rickshaw wallah was still waiting for us, and he followed us as we walked the long distance down a pier. He wouldn’t give up on our business. Ben and I sat at the end of the pier for a bit, watching some fisherman, and then considered what to do next. We thought about hiking in the hills along the island, but rickshaw wallah (and another that’d shown up) warned us that the people there aren’t good people and its dangerous. Well whether they were trying to scare us and make us take their rickshaw somewhere else, or telling the truth, we decided against it. Ultimately we decided to take a small boat back to the main dock a bit of distance around the island. We left our disappointed persistent rickshaw wallah on the jetty. (pics: Ben posing on the long pier on Maheskhali Island, fisherman fishing at the end of the pier)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwXZe7MnVqmyRnVKOYLWNDRaIc9mKKXw22Hxc7A4MASPxGf2_-bX0Z-8g2xzDl16DzPMLLvI6PSgWyq9RA6nR0DfaMIGDoRN5Y1aiKhHwb-AXqWLGrS7WJ1k9UAW12D_hkkMcKZO1bwgU/s1600-h/aDSC07207.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwXZe7MnVqmyRnVKOYLWNDRaIc9mKKXw22Hxc7A4MASPxGf2_-bX0Z-8g2xzDl16DzPMLLvI6PSgWyq9RA6nR0DfaMIGDoRN5Y1aiKhHwb-AXqWLGrS7WJ1k9UAW12D_hkkMcKZO1bwgU/s320/aDSC07207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211237779984732258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8cEFi7EIgx9pqimsHqsBuI9KjdZ-CN5wOTOjVHllHAwBatqlm6u8IG9XBwCABNahSR_lSn_kHklnAE6LGG4ACWbYa7DrYbbw1Ukl7zKM23Bk5sZwd6AOvNdtTtVTy6wCTJZdXK5aBLdP/s1600-h/aDSC07209.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8cEFi7EIgx9pqimsHqsBuI9KjdZ-CN5wOTOjVHllHAwBatqlm6u8IG9XBwCABNahSR_lSn_kHklnAE6LGG4ACWbYa7DrYbbw1Ukl7zKM23Bk5sZwd6AOvNdtTtVTy6wCTJZdXK5aBLdP/s320/aDSC07209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211237781295054994" border="0" /></a><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Upon getting back to Cox’s Bazar city, we went to the beach, took some pictures, even though it was not nearly as nice as yesterday. Very windy, and rain was threatening. But still warm. We played in the water a bit keeping an eye on my camera on land. (pics: Ben near the edge of Bay of Bengal, Cox's Bazar's beach, kids playing in the Bay of Bengal in Cox's Bazar, Ben posing near inner tubs at the popular area of the beach<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gGjmgmu3hUv0VwJqGNJ5LIIKZc02mBHkzIAEjyaFRdlnlEWa0OttvnWUbUKm5OOHmBLE3-XS19GBwuCJyZi6orUx0zOZ95SoDTlbW0gm-wA8Q79pnHlAA1mu8tOm4enc2tevyI-1c8Ia/s1600-h/aDSC07224.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gGjmgmu3hUv0VwJqGNJ5LIIKZc02mBHkzIAEjyaFRdlnlEWa0OttvnWUbUKm5OOHmBLE3-XS19GBwuCJyZi6orUx0zOZ95SoDTlbW0gm-wA8Q79pnHlAA1mu8tOm4enc2tevyI-1c8Ia/s320/aDSC07224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211238428740473250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEJnmChtBWM6P_fZ9rg3CN_3yYoKZt6OqprhVWRNc4DbW21hAw-S55oFJ4bXhmRAAYxNWD-JqaU48c5NvOhY01FY6ypCXrPwEqbRkjSSZ0LPTRw5S5NfAtQEni2cZ0v4UJXTgr1JQl6CZ/s1600-h/aDSC07220.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEJnmChtBWM6P_fZ9rg3CN_3yYoKZt6OqprhVWRNc4DbW21hAw-S55oFJ4bXhmRAAYxNWD-JqaU48c5NvOhY01FY6ypCXrPwEqbRkjSSZ0LPTRw5S5NfAtQEni2cZ0v4UJXTgr1JQl6CZ/s320/aDSC07220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211238422300483586" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGV_2syfU68ezp_JeHSW8h4GeWFE-Y4Jo6vRhngm7NFIvtY_K-M7RUWH6tzoMby3yWuINZg-GXwKPAJNHerlKfO-HNk016CONkVLPYKirWexnNQUSWtkdzgrQ0H9_j7YftwSkCgEcGZ60S/s1600-h/aDSC07219.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGV_2syfU68ezp_JeHSW8h4GeWFE-Y4Jo6vRhngm7NFIvtY_K-M7RUWH6tzoMby3yWuINZg-GXwKPAJNHerlKfO-HNk016CONkVLPYKirWexnNQUSWtkdzgrQ0H9_j7YftwSkCgEcGZ60S/s320/aDSC07219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211238421700365426" border="0" /></a> in Cox's Bazar)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLD2SmpdfpTHTz6yY46CRz0ntU4X9sFu4AtBn68A-hGxdT7-bMT9W4JgBBtsWYjB3I-a3HhyDICCv_WzZSbV_DfgNFyHxmXv7obAA4fVZCfM2XNICnd64fmPsygFUgnI0LIQdN2e0TWWP/s1600-h/aDSC07227.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLD2SmpdfpTHTz6yY46CRz0ntU4X9sFu4AtBn68A-hGxdT7-bMT9W4JgBBtsWYjB3I-a3HhyDICCv_WzZSbV_DfgNFyHxmXv7obAA4fVZCfM2XNICnd64fmPsygFUgnI0LIQdN2e0TWWP/s320/aDSC07227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211239592581875714" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Walked farther than yesterday, and finally decided to go climb one of the hills behind the city. They looked to be of similar height of what we could see down the shore, so figured this should be just as good for views. And it was. It was tough finding a way up, as villages were along the base of the hills tightly packed with no way to get close. But we found a road the cut through the hill, and there was a path to climb to the top of the hill from there. There were a few other guys up there who were doing the same thing as us, looked to be kids from the villages below. The views allowed us to see all of Cox’s Bazar, down and up the coast quite a ways, and far inland. Neat to see the villages just below us bustling and the new hotels along the ocean. (pics: Cox's Bazar's hotels and ocean as seen from the hills just behind the city, village along the edge of the hills in Cox's Bazar)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgOoDkE-4ulyMa0G-rYifgOI2C42aSNI1iD98kuxCoetlWNS4sPUs9xzzawwFxCpPoafPjtU6sHsHSvuOXs9wZQsT8QK991rc3hWoPn_kSxmfvU6_q8h1sGrG5ENFkAeBRf73raXPcG-H/s1600-h/aDSC07234.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgOoDkE-4ulyMa0G-rYifgOI2C42aSNI1iD98kuxCoetlWNS4sPUs9xzzawwFxCpPoafPjtU6sHsHSvuOXs9wZQsT8QK991rc3hWoPn_kSxmfvU6_q8h1sGrG5ENFkAeBRf73raXPcG-H/s320/aDSC07234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211239602841879890" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr9pAtr49BBVY313hdUZgSL25PgrckoCqSR7_nw7ez9GjzsXj9STGcYnvfEL5prJm6RiJIy9h4E-HYTKiSN2RxIw9nyf3LyLUE9nJ-nNTPyLeaK13EKkB4IGo8wz76roIPV3xcpmgmBwC/s1600-h/aDSC07233.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr9pAtr49BBVY313hdUZgSL25PgrckoCqSR7_nw7ez9GjzsXj9STGcYnvfEL5prJm6RiJIy9h4E-HYTKiSN2RxIw9nyf3LyLUE9nJ-nNTPyLeaK13EKkB4IGo8wz76roIPV3xcpmgmBwC/s320/aDSC07233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211239595615948546" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We headed back to the hotel, dropped off the camera and went back to ocean to play in the water. The sea was very rough. It would pull us along the shore a good distance in just a small amount of time. Kept having to get out and walk back up. Sat in the sand, enjoyed the warm waters of the <st1:place>Bay of Bengal</st1:place>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We showered and got ready for our bus. Had a small dinner, and I showed Ben fried rupchanda fish (pomfret.) The bus ended up getting delayed one hour, and we played cards in the ticket office until it left. Bus ride ended up starting around <st1:time minute="15" hour="23">11:15pm</st1:time>.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On all the travels Ben and I have done here, our primary sustenance has been water, Choco Marie biscuits, and bananas. We’ve been trying to avoid having stomach problems on the bus. The biscuits have been incredible, filling me up after only a few.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>40<sup>th</sup>-7th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/10<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The bus got in later due to its late departure time, but also because it is having to take a longer route. The <st1:place><st1:placename>Meghna</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Bridge</st1:placetype></st1:place> we found out later is under repair, so the buses are having to go north through Narsingdhi, taking an extra 2 hours on the trip. This is going to cause rolling delays. We still got into <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> around <st1:time minute="0" hour="9">9AM</st1:time>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After resting from the trip, Ben and I ate some lunch at Nando’s. He had wanted to check it out as he’d seen it <st1:country-region><st1:place>South Africa</st1:place></st1:country-region>, but hadn’t eaten there. And we are lucky to have one here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">From there we went to the Green Line ticket counter in Kalabagan. Ben bought his ticket to Kolkata on Friday. Ticket was very cheap, and buying it was incredibly easy! Compared to the hassle I had for buying plane tickets, I think the time saved buying bus tickets makes up for the length of the ride!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then took Ben to the <st1:place><st1:placename>Liberation</st1:placename> <st1:placename>War</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Museum</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I had to go help at an orientation session in Baridhara, so I gave him specific directions on how to meet up with me later. Although I was a bit worried, I had total faith he’d be fine. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The orientation session was for my former language program AIBS. Jen, Karen, and a former student Luke were all invited by Tony Stewart, the program director, to give the new batch of fifteen students a short orientation on life in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, answering any questions they had about life here and the program itself. After a short introduction by Tony, he left, and left us to chat. The kids were still tired from arriving just yesterday, but we still had a session for about 50 minutes. They asked questions about getting around, clothing, food, health, and we were glad to talk about it all. We also raised several topics we thought they show know about. (pics: new listening classroom at AIBS, 2008's batch of summer Bengali students at AIBS at orientation)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY00u-y3VKR24Lvzvl3lJ3NP22RagYQh8az_CoF7Jtw59ybxknoPBo14S5A5VUn_8_DaHfjvWtCyZWYpFsYaXLVhXF9IN35s8gf2pFQaUU5eBIszx6f76RpfKGzEruCwtUbuBByKLj-O7w/s1600-h/aDSC07249.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY00u-y3VKR24Lvzvl3lJ3NP22RagYQh8az_CoF7Jtw59ybxknoPBo14S5A5VUn_8_DaHfjvWtCyZWYpFsYaXLVhXF9IN35s8gf2pFQaUU5eBIszx6f76RpfKGzEruCwtUbuBByKLj-O7w/s320/aDSC07249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211247032280184290" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTip7_9sVqk74CABvlyvoXpu9sc582aEzavFLDszTke-AhTOQKePoKTsHwIU7s4cQm0CS3rqPv23pwHvD2tx8cOgCpNXOmkpnppv37zTpHEZpEqmuFJ7Hr0mkNATXtDQIfBDGjELBEmSDF/s1600-h/aDSC07251.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTip7_9sVqk74CABvlyvoXpu9sc582aEzavFLDszTke-AhTOQKePoKTsHwIU7s4cQm0CS3rqPv23pwHvD2tx8cOgCpNXOmkpnppv37zTpHEZpEqmuFJ7Hr0mkNATXtDQIfBDGjELBEmSDF/s320/aDSC07251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211247037165330002" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />The program has almost all new teachers from last year. Only Santa remains from even the teaching staff I had (Nadia and Shakil left take jobs in other countries, and Farrah quit.) Two of the new teachers were Fulbrights to NCSU last year and taught Bengali there (just like how Naira and Farhanaz taught me the year before.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I met up with Ben at Gulshan-1. He had no problems getting there, and received help from several people on the bus and at the bus counter. Was very happy that it went all right. We walked to Time Out for dinner and with the goal of getting some paan we could trust. We tried out the mango drink that is only available in this season, very salty and a bit spicy. Dinner was fine, Ben tried out Bangladeshi Mexican food, and I got some Malaysian noodles. Then we got try the paan they serve there. I ordered one that they said was not too sweet. Ben and I stuffed it in our mouths and chewed away. It wasn’t as bad as the last few times I’ve tried it, now that I’m getting used to it. Ben handled it much better than I did my first time. (pics: our paan at Time Out before eating, Ben putting the paan in his mouth, the various ingredients that are put inside paan)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSBgqWfJHiC0Yba4g_0Rz-I-fIASk_T5sw2kVVDw2wwJBsLTRMmma830JvBp8gpDHDGMuug73RhgB12d0_-aUx97CWTAiMcFDtobVgHFWgBlP1QR156WjGlyQmDPzPuKln57sjL3CNpWz/s1600-h/aDSC07262.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSBgqWfJHiC0Yba4g_0Rz-I-fIASk_T5sw2kVVDw2wwJBsLTRMmma830JvBp8gpDHDGMuug73RhgB12d0_-aUx97CWTAiMcFDtobVgHFWgBlP1QR156WjGlyQmDPzPuKln57sjL3CNpWz/s320/aDSC07262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211247040388081746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN4KvFfrbZN1GjpI7q2aEK7lO0hfPS9YfwDjJzdbN0LRm4-gEr9pAE58HwtLnFewTnCdnvXfmCTr_8065-HmCy5sMo0aPVW7DKiN2n1f4QCqlyNqZOH_Bt4ia49YKutTSeKmL7xktIUDL/s1600-h/aDSC07263.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN4KvFfrbZN1GjpI7q2aEK7lO0hfPS9YfwDjJzdbN0LRm4-gEr9pAE58HwtLnFewTnCdnvXfmCTr_8065-HmCy5sMo0aPVW7DKiN2n1f4QCqlyNqZOH_Bt4ia49YKutTSeKmL7xktIUDL/s320/aDSC07263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211247043518784562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLY4IzirYBsypGX14cq5RoQMWeomF0PNGuw-jghziZWmpuu7z6UqMrguFNgzngcz-_IBQOUoNqKWnzp1y7wEMKO9osIeg7iT_vStqKOTtFgWb5UWZwE3uPN8HXOn3BtmOfuH-961fRfSZ/s1600-h/aDSC07267.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLY4IzirYBsypGX14cq5RoQMWeomF0PNGuw-jghziZWmpuu7z6UqMrguFNgzngcz-_IBQOUoNqKWnzp1y7wEMKO9osIeg7iT_vStqKOTtFgWb5UWZwE3uPN8HXOn3BtmOfuH-961fRfSZ/s320/aDSC07267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211247045115369954" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-29520062149675809892008-06-05T09:50:00.023+06:002008-06-05T16:27:00.301+06:00Week 39: Ben arrives and we explore the historical sites of Paharpur and Mahasthangarh<b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/28<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal">This morning I called my sister Sandee to wish her a happy birthday! She was very happy to receive the call, even though it was short. She also still had one hour to go until her birthday even started, but I told her it’d already been her birthday here for nine hours!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">An article on me and my blog was posted in <a href="http://pursuantgroup.com/ncstate/coe/0508c.htm">this month’s NC State engineering e-newsletter</a>. I’ve posted the link on the sidebar as well.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Spent the day at home mostly processing data. Went out to get some errands done, including faxing our Rangamati permission stuff again to the Deputy Collector. No one said this would be easy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the evening I headed over to Baridhara. Tonight is the July 4 party, even though it’s May 28, at the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region> embassy. I was debating whether or not to go, and I decided that, since I was invited for being a Fulbright, I have a responsibility to go. I am an ambassador for my program, and not going would not be living up to the few expectations the Fulbright program has for us. The hassle of dressing up nice in the heat is minor compared to the impact I can make on a few important people tonight by spreading the good news of the Fulbright program. So that motivated me to go, and I was prepared to be a good Fulbright ambassador.<br />I met up with Erin and Karen at <st1:place>Erin</st1:place>’s place to clean up from the sweaty bus ride, and put on my tie. We then headed by rickshaw, in the rain which had started around dusk, down the road to the embassy. Had to go through three checkpoints, each time having to show our invitation, just to reach the embassy’s gates. (pics: the US Embassy decorated in July 4 colors for the party...unintentionally blurry but I'm sure they prefer that for security reasons, Karen/myself/Erin dressed up for the US Embassy's July 4th party)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUkyY2iLhkOWm0gD6gNw6gw2MuhAFC7fYu7wtqu7nGSxNfuPF-gf0WFZM7xPgJKVJRWUwiWHaDVa-Q5m8LDwmFrQwbpvBpVsacnPxBr7NaL838wlJB_Y-8HiY8yOag-L1KO6gqeMyLh4c/s1600-h/DSC06871.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUkyY2iLhkOWm0gD6gNw6gw2MuhAFC7fYu7wtqu7nGSxNfuPF-gf0WFZM7xPgJKVJRWUwiWHaDVa-Q5m8LDwmFrQwbpvBpVsacnPxBr7NaL838wlJB_Y-8HiY8yOag-L1KO6gqeMyLh4c/s320/DSC06871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208245008774968386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4X2r1srVqKmG3H3Hrwy_LQwUBurj3gfGUS0eH_I80jqMgvGoGBbt4mwHRf-5cLNrLLweP60fywnMShYGPM8fVuNud59xpsYJq32xQDaPdDn911E8V8TRxOsiMPBVjlSPG_iZXqoKNa7Jg/s1600-h/DSC06874.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4X2r1srVqKmG3H3Hrwy_LQwUBurj3gfGUS0eH_I80jqMgvGoGBbt4mwHRf-5cLNrLLweP60fywnMShYGPM8fVuNud59xpsYJq32xQDaPdDn911E8V8TRxOsiMPBVjlSPG_iZXqoKNa7Jg/s320/DSC06874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208245017364902994" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">There was lots of snack food, and a lot of it representing 4<sup>th</sup> of July fare. I was extremely happy to see hot dogs, full sized, just cut up into sections. I at least ate one full one across the evening. Mini-jumbo pretzels, mini fried chicken, skewers of summer fruit, and brownies topped off the summer feast!<br />The <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region> ambassador, new to the country in the last two months, gave the first address. I only met him for a handshake at the door, but got to meet many other ambassadors throughout the evening. I was first introduced by my friend Leigh to several Arab ambassadors including the one from <st1:country-region><st1:place>Egypt</st1:place></st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region><st1:place>Kuwait</st1:place></st1:country-region>, Emirates, <st1:city><st1:place>Palestine</st1:place></st1:city>, and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Libya</st1:place></st1:country-region>. They were talking together when we walked up. Only the Egyptian ambassador stayed past the pleasantries, and we talked long about traffic (of course) and other topics for about fifteen minutes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/29<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I saw that Google Maps was updated for <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>! Was so excited had to bump it into the blog a week earlier. But it is really exciting. You can see the roads, schools, hospitals, parks, everything! Nice to know all the places I located by satellite on my map on the sidebar were correct! I no longer feel like I’m living in a barren wasteland (as I would have to think by looking at a map before.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Called the Deputy Collector of Rangamati again, hoping they got my fax or courier service package. Well they didn’t, but they said they would, and the guy on the phone made it seem like we don’t even need permission. We’ll see.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This morning I found out a bit more about Moweena: she has two children and they still live in her village with her father. She also has a granddaughter from her son. She lives in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> with her sister, and they both do domestic work.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I headed out the buses with the hopes of getting four done. Well combining a #12 bus which cut its route short, another #12 bus which I had to get off early, a #13 bus which wasn’t doing its full route, and a #13 bus which took two hours, I only got two full buses done. Local buses are much harder to research than ticket buses.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-3rd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/30<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today <a href="http://www.bengaddy.com/blog/">Ben</a> arrived at <st1:time minute="30" hour="19">7:30, my friend from North Carolina State University</st1:time>. They wouldn’t let me in the fenced in area where Ben would walk out of. So I had to wait outside the gates and watch for him. Finally he came out, and I looked for an army officer to ask if I can enter, but all were occupied. So I insteade I walked right through the gate, yelled “BEN!” twice, and he heard me, turned, and we gave each other a big hug.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Took a CNG back home, talked for a bit. He told me that my photo from the Aktel ad is now in the airport in the baggage claim area. I had no idea, and have no clue how long it’s been up. He thought I knew and that’s why he didn’t take a picture.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Although it was hot, we decided to go for a walk, and went around part of <st1:place><st1:placename>Dhanmondi</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>, catching up and sweating in the heat. Walked down Sat Masjid Road for a bit, got some mango juice, and later met up with Diya, and we got some cold soda and went to Anam Rangs Plaza to enjoy the air conditioning.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Coming home we both passed out. I napped for about three hours, Ben about five.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went by New Market in the evening. Headed to my tailor to see about buying this shirt I wanted to get and thought Ben would like too. But they were out of the material. We also looked into buying some suits. Ben bought his first lungi, as well as some sandals to wear when it rains. It poured as we came back by rickshaw. More than I’ve seen here. We got pretty soaked, even though we got on the rickshaw just in time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We started watching a movie at home, Good Luck Chuck and the power went out twice. So at one point we just went to get dinner at my favorite hotel. Although it wasn’t very late, the place was more empty than usual. Ben got to eat his first real filling of rice.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-4th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/31<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Both of us felt a little bit sick this morning when we woke up. Ben felt sick because of a headache, myself because of typical stomach problems. After these had passed and we’d had a big breakfast of rice and dal, we headed out to see some sights.</span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">First was BUET, and I took him around the standard tour of the campus, seeing all the sights. He specifically enjoyed the views from the top of the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color:black;">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style="color:black;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color:black;">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color:black;">, comparing them to the views from Cox and Dabney at State.</span><span style="color:black;"> </span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">We then walked over to Shahid Minar, Was surprised we weren’t surrounded by beggars, and the place was quieter than usual on a normal day. We sat around for awhile as we were getting quite hot and tired and there was some shade to be found. (pic: Ben in front of Shahid Minar)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPx0qsKQB7dFy5Lm9PmD0lPdhqXLtAEDUPurqVSzWgfBa-Wlj1n4PJHfRiwfNY2HE6WfDDxSm7LAnDieICDVd82o8Bx-ELF179y0PUUdKBSAciptvW9tIGwdg4trGNDdk6-QyV-V1pm61/s1600-h/DSC06890.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPx0qsKQB7dFy5Lm9PmD0lPdhqXLtAEDUPurqVSzWgfBa-Wlj1n4PJHfRiwfNY2HE6WfDDxSm7LAnDieICDVd82o8Bx-ELF179y0PUUdKBSAciptvW9tIGwdg4trGNDdk6-QyV-V1pm61/s320/DSC06890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208245021659870306" border="0" /></a><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Then we walked over to </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color:black;">Dhakeshwari</span></st1:placename><span style="color:black;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color:black;">Temple</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color:black;">. It is my third time there, but in a long time. The temple was quieter than the other two times. The only action was a bride who was walked up to the shrine and was crying, supported by two family members. (pic: lunch time at Dhakeshwari Temple)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8tSezg7vfPMSC8Gc8eLjr7nOYNswrH1iABtoRM2Nzj7165wyXZx79EAsj_4X6UECC4xbryxqnuWLF1_iyGpW-xTxs83bSnsLzk-nhaHuIJ5v257X-9sRiK1sgSwsEzRZL6LtK4KbCcBZ/s1600-h/DSC06891.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8tSezg7vfPMSC8Gc8eLjr7nOYNswrH1iABtoRM2Nzj7165wyXZx79EAsj_4X6UECC4xbryxqnuWLF1_iyGpW-xTxs83bSnsLzk-nhaHuIJ5v257X-9sRiK1sgSwsEzRZL6LtK4KbCcBZ/s320/DSC06891.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208245021659870322" border="0" /></a><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">From there we took a bus to Baridhara where we were meeting up for flag football at the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color:black;">American</span></st1:placename><span style="color:black;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color:black;">School</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color:black;">. It was organized by Leigh, and we got invited by Aaron. A lot of people showed up, and we ended up having four teams of eight. With that many people we didn't have enough flag football flags, so we played two-hand touch. We played two games, with the winners of each squaring off and the losers squaring off after. That meant that for the final game, because both our teams won, my team got to face Ben and Aaron’s team, who beat us easily. I got to catch a winning touchdown in the first game though. It was fun to run around and be sweaty for awhile. The </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color:black;">American</span></st1:placename><span style="color:black;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color:black;">School</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color:black;">’s field is very nice, nicer than anything NC State had. (pics: two-hand touch football on the fields of the American International School, resting after football in the gymnasium part of the school)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRcX7RIxmTV9XKC-E4EyyHWYT7PxNp4BfIhxtIVBDl6hlU8zbDzkMS8IEnZIdv4ps2Dv5_pcODZocYlU0SGgWyJT65oTiwG3BIOo98qEYkJt1UED_HTSiPzXDdAMtZHLJcq2HDUnasKOW/s1600-h/DSC06892.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRcX7RIxmTV9XKC-E4EyyHWYT7PxNp4BfIhxtIVBDl6hlU8zbDzkMS8IEnZIdv4ps2Dv5_pcODZocYlU0SGgWyJT65oTiwG3BIOo98qEYkJt1UED_HTSiPzXDdAMtZHLJcq2HDUnasKOW/s320/DSC06892.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208245025954837634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2AgaaymI0-VKVTx_4K5TVxNMH9niBEMvq_T3Z5L96geKj6GCb-dUwQgow3J0EF_475gyBPymdDV2_ligK1WLR__e8Tb0Ovaoa3wwYr4ssnufgb9LULmQt4Xh_26pthidKsAvDRCJ_aql/s1600-h/DSC06898.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2AgaaymI0-VKVTx_4K5TVxNMH9niBEMvq_T3Z5L96geKj6GCb-dUwQgow3J0EF_475gyBPymdDV2_ligK1WLR__e8Tb0Ovaoa3wwYr4ssnufgb9LULmQt4Xh_26pthidKsAvDRCJ_aql/s320/DSC06898.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208247001639793810" border="0" /></a><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-5th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 6/1<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went to the tailor in the morning. We had spent the morning researching about fabrics and styles to learn more about what we wanted to buy. We looked at my suits and shirts I’ve already gotten tailored, and checked out their measurements. At the tailor we spent a lot of time choosing our fabrics, ultimately buying four shirts each and material for a suit. We then went upstairs and got measured. We’re excited to see our stuff come out in a week and a half weeks. (pics: Ben choosing his fabric for shirts, Ben getting measured for his suit)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRNon0HdhZo2awxpY6ecfIUPMd0Z4DNv44KTSP5Q7So1el-NPRBW87BJHohRMmjyQ4JptqM7nNqqYyKHJshuOKhbwkTf7g5f8_GJUcCWVqoKw4jz8TvXyhxbsM3Uqlm8chDv3KZN-dFP9/s1600-h/DSC06901a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRNon0HdhZo2awxpY6ecfIUPMd0Z4DNv44KTSP5Q7So1el-NPRBW87BJHohRMmjyQ4JptqM7nNqqYyKHJshuOKhbwkTf7g5f8_GJUcCWVqoKw4jz8TvXyhxbsM3Uqlm8chDv3KZN-dFP9/s320/DSC06901a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208334382749431090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIphe_RVi6PPREfdBUwJ9oKI89pymt7d-bk-8uozFwV7qKcEnxoeDhxwilxU4YxR7PJ7UpaDHzN2SruLMK8E09LoB5jSVtTFd31BQbKJJvg7Ia2HrDCjzvS6HxD4L1bQAcfpb7TQmxv5rk/s1600-h/DSC06906.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIphe_RVi6PPREfdBUwJ9oKI89pymt7d-bk-8uozFwV7qKcEnxoeDhxwilxU4YxR7PJ7UpaDHzN2SruLMK8E09LoB5jSVtTFd31BQbKJJvg7Ia2HrDCjzvS6HxD4L1bQAcfpb7TQmxv5rk/s320/DSC06906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208247010229728434" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We had lunch at Ayon’s, and after lunch, his mother invited us over again for a lunch on Wednesday. Before and after we sat and talked with Ayon, and at one point Ayon showed us pictures from his family albums.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From there Ben and I headed to Nazira Bazar to buy some rickshaw art. We each bought some pieces after checking out a few stores. The most humorous one we saw was where the artist painted a city scene where a train had collided with a truck on the train tracks and driver was lying through the truck window bleeding…who paints that?!? (pics: one of the old buildings in Nazira Bazar of Old Dhaka, rickshaw art for sale in Nazira Bazar)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_AXQT702RbGv5FWS8hT9_5cMdk6LlDkBsRAsIvT1ggDJhyphenhyphenF89KIZLWMwPrA9Rh2R4-7BunaPe4iVoYGJHcSUziPPEf0JSDOD1OrbgA5LExVG7eBk5ZnnU_bxXBQXKDINE4xz9mbbIuvj/s1600-h/DSC06909.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_AXQT702RbGv5FWS8hT9_5cMdk6LlDkBsRAsIvT1ggDJhyphenhyphenF89KIZLWMwPrA9Rh2R4-7BunaPe4iVoYGJHcSUziPPEf0JSDOD1OrbgA5LExVG7eBk5ZnnU_bxXBQXKDINE4xz9mbbIuvj/s320/DSC06909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208247010229728450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sphikc7wubaOcZkf_VUSxbIGfUg-d5LHp0Qc5uWgxpiURC2Z4Uu3S6P2nhkGsbKMXyk72jS1jOjnBNtRccxGh8GUemLGFEGn31PD1qRZBk_vxS2YIoy8FoIZ_5JtGMj488zsRCyynCjR/s1600-h/DSC06910.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sphikc7wubaOcZkf_VUSxbIGfUg-d5LHp0Qc5uWgxpiURC2Z4Uu3S6P2nhkGsbKMXyk72jS1jOjnBNtRccxGh8GUemLGFEGn31PD1qRZBk_vxS2YIoy8FoIZ_5JtGMj488zsRCyynCjR/s320/DSC06910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208247014524695762" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Then headed around town trying to buy a bus ticket. This proved to be more difficult as I thought, but I guess I’m used to that. We passed by Baitul Mukarram and I showed it to Ben as we passed. It is interesting going around with Ben here as he tells me a lot about the differences between here and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Egypt</st1:place></st1:country-region>, where he spent a lot of time. Also, because he is very proficient in Arabic, he keeps pointing out to me the signs in which things are spelled wrong or written incorrectly. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-6th in Bogra 6/2<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We headed out to Bogra today. The bus was a smooth ride, but hit some major showers halfway through, making us have to close the bus windows. It was a magnificent storm, flooding the roads we drove on and reducing our bus to a crawl as the visibility went to zero. But by the time we arrived in Bogra, the rain had ended.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In Bogra we took a rickshaw to a hotel we wanted to stay at the main bus terminal called the Safeway Motel. The place was nice and looked deserted, but low and behold, they were booked up for the night! Wondering what to do, the hotel owner eased our concerns and stared calling every hotel in the area on his own accord. Finally he found us a hotel after about 10 minutes, just down the road. I wasn’t quite sure where it was, but he said no worries, and told his private car to take us there. Such service without even asking!<br />Our hotel was really nice, called the Bogra Resort. It was on top of a few shops doing car repair. We got some lunch after checking in at a street side restaurant. It didn’t have running water and we didn’t dare drink the water they gave us. The food was ridiculously spicy, and both of us had runny noses while we ate and were left gasping for breath.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After, we got on a local bus to take us to Mahasthan. This village is the site one of the oldest known settlements in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>, dating back to the 3<sup>rd</sup> century BC, called Mahasthangarh. From where we got off the bus a rickshaw took us to the museum. The ride there took us by the Citadel, the main structure of the area and about one mile long! The museum was at the other end, and after paying the high fare of Tk100 to enter the museum, we took a look inside. Typical Bangladeshi museum, had some neat artifacts, a lot dating back to 2300 years ago. There was a decent map of the area and it showed all the structures in about 100 sq km. There are Hindu, Buddhist, and Muslim sites ranging from different time periods, but most of the remaining structures are from a 8<sup>th</sup> to 11<sup>th</sup> century Buddhist period. We took our time looking around a temple across the street from the museum, a Hindu structure from the 6<sup>th</sup> century called Govinda Bhita. (pics: two boys standing on the remains of Govinda Bhita in Mahasthangarh, Ben walking along the remains of a wall of Govinda Bhita)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRKPoSJe5YTDg8iXpDn5n9vyPKFcCaR7iddWBu_jctKY2rpkToN89v3Fz0HfiKXL9JEYfPFH08aKmlEHMVdIZabWM4hVKBTZRmWf_xQiLWI-Pxve9OoATjlYgPWR1A07ac-cFLWmpnjmM/s1600-h/DSC06923.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRKPoSJe5YTDg8iXpDn5n9vyPKFcCaR7iddWBu_jctKY2rpkToN89v3Fz0HfiKXL9JEYfPFH08aKmlEHMVdIZabWM4hVKBTZRmWf_xQiLWI-Pxve9OoATjlYgPWR1A07ac-cFLWmpnjmM/s320/DSC06923.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208261570168861938" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkrd69gv_TzWQYk7vMl5rzyWqQubjt2sc_do8VvM9NwpPsf1saAyMWqDXuePtbX5tdflbkOj9jbzbMLqyuaUiYMa7qtcwAjUDGf4yK5iHkfOTx88ylmB_BKMXQCBA8ez9xS8LTiHX8cov/s1600-h/DSC06920.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkrd69gv_TzWQYk7vMl5rzyWqQubjt2sc_do8VvM9NwpPsf1saAyMWqDXuePtbX5tdflbkOj9jbzbMLqyuaUiYMa7qtcwAjUDGf4yK5iHkfOTx88ylmB_BKMXQCBA8ez9xS8LTiHX8cov/s320/DSC06920.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208261565873894626" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">From there we walked to the Citadel, the one that is almost a mile long. We walked along its outer wall for its full length, encountering several people on the way inquiring about our nationality. The Citadel was empty of anything historical on the inside except for a few mounds with a bit of brick work spotted here and there. Instead, the entire interior was being farmed and people were going about their daily work on this ancient site. (pics: Ben at the entrance to the Citadel, myself with the interior of the Citadel being farmed behind me, Ben standing along the outer wall of the Citadel, unrestored portion of the wall)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhtOkFBF7sDmyjToMMaboBNZ6Ekqd-MMyv__uo_cpob8FbxZooRRvwyaFSPbg-skggz7mmFHLF40SAaE5UHr475eOaFY8tNcc5GH36As-PwFlqoEBcHDlVq5pIH9ubHmjKm6cJ0U0oTtL/s1600-h/DSC06927.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhtOkFBF7sDmyjToMMaboBNZ6Ekqd-MMyv__uo_cpob8FbxZooRRvwyaFSPbg-skggz7mmFHLF40SAaE5UHr475eOaFY8tNcc5GH36As-PwFlqoEBcHDlVq5pIH9ubHmjKm6cJ0U0oTtL/s320/DSC06927.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208261574463829250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KL3PkARfE5h-QMGD7emc9cnFS65nwYfYfEKX9X6mJBfQzERKrSjBQTHwjROzHT63qGE8hgOkavvtGM1LADWmarBAbsxV15P_z1GoI9DW2bGEYBlyFZnoDN9FunnslxKHS7wTPl2JteQX/s1600-h/DSC06930.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KL3PkARfE5h-QMGD7emc9cnFS65nwYfYfEKX9X6mJBfQzERKrSjBQTHwjROzHT63qGE8hgOkavvtGM1LADWmarBAbsxV15P_z1GoI9DW2bGEYBlyFZnoDN9FunnslxKHS7wTPl2JteQX/s320/DSC06930.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208261574463829266" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnNuscbLQQX4dAmakqYwrPCgNzaD-Cb3b7T8vZb48okmTqZYjy6rmdKLTOI6oCjdFoZ0V3-5IqFm4m3GnG66DyApp26VuTbzecXriwfFSGEybcqqh-zBvknvytCUsHwIrdzTS9wieVFFl/s1600-h/DSC06934.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnNuscbLQQX4dAmakqYwrPCgNzaD-Cb3b7T8vZb48okmTqZYjy6rmdKLTOI6oCjdFoZ0V3-5IqFm4m3GnG66DyApp26VuTbzecXriwfFSGEybcqqh-zBvknvytCUsHwIrdzTS9wieVFFl/s320/DSC06934.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208261578758796578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmtlFHLRllPmifkd8l8P5HcTcqSu_eM2edQ1yOO2T2RLxoQfFop8r1Vq6528CXHqNDk7lqy8jfeKQUOWslKj6KweUMA69eBLOro3mP-RPV0q-PMuoLQzgzAYx4W8v3HlD6hmf93sT_OlM/s1600-h/DSC06935a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmtlFHLRllPmifkd8l8P5HcTcqSu_eM2edQ1yOO2T2RLxoQfFop8r1Vq6528CXHqNDk7lqy8jfeKQUOWslKj6KweUMA69eBLOro3mP-RPV0q-PMuoLQzgzAYx4W8v3HlD6hmf93sT_OlM/s320/DSC06935a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208334391339365698" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We bought some mangoes and took a bus back to Bogra, spending a little bit of time walking around the city’s center main market. Got scared at one point that I’d been robbed as I got surrounded by some guys and then later I noticed my backpack was open. Got scared, nothing happened, I likely left the pocket open.<br />Went back to the hotel and had dinner. Had to wait an hour and a half while they made it. They gave us a table in the corner of large dining room, we were the only ones in the hotel eating there. One guy serving us. Good meal though, they cut the mangoes we bought for us. Enjoyed watching the cable TV in our room while we waited for dinner. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>39<sup>th</sup>-7th in Paharpur 6/3<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Grabbed a bus and headed to Paharpur. This was a good distance away. First leg was to take a local bus to Jaipurhat, and from there, another local bus to Paharpur village. Finally from Paharpur village, the historical sights there are a rickshaw ride away down a bumpy road. It was not easy to reach <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s most impressive historical site. (pic: view of the road to Somapura Mahavira from Paharpur's bus stand) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswIoTM0fLSGIQG6rFxR1zJuoSZqvW1CR5HvZEN90eR5P4Q2fWky1sJobYVgaWFjyFo1UWjZWeEk7pUsUbgsUqIv0ecukFIB9WkKIg8QZWyoAm2NGLCXOc1HE8s6i68pSDkyiY-Ss4_XlD/s1600-h/DSC06937a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswIoTM0fLSGIQG6rFxR1zJuoSZqvW1CR5HvZEN90eR5P4Q2fWky1sJobYVgaWFjyFo1UWjZWeEk7pUsUbgsUqIv0ecukFIB9WkKIg8QZWyoAm2NGLCXOc1HE8s6i68pSDkyiY-Ss4_XlD/s320/DSC06937a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208334395634333010" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We arrived to the Somapura Mahavira site in Parharpur and got surrounded by tourist shop owners! I’ve never seen anything like this in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. They stopped our rickshaw from moving and were yelling for us to visit their stores and buy food. They had gifts, that I’d never seen before in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Maybe just three or four shops total. Is this a preview of what <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> will turn into if it becomes a tourist country? It was quite impressive. They stopped our rickshaw a second time once we told it to go again, and continued to hold onto it and pointing and waving for us to buy things. Finally we broke free and made it to the gate. (pic: first tourist trap I've seen in Bangladesh)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dNVdfxt-N1jnlSahJWxWUoYu3P0gciBjprV9NyJ3rz1tVw7YH7EDi2mM0u7VnvVJL1tVx9CZkZ6yq-u46iBOOA2xO0PqBr71ArymAuMdCREBnbMfdkwpbL-BPSlGV4XFWczb6Z6b8Tda/s1600-h/DSC06979a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dNVdfxt-N1jnlSahJWxWUoYu3P0gciBjprV9NyJ3rz1tVw7YH7EDi2mM0u7VnvVJL1tVx9CZkZ6yq-u46iBOOA2xO0PqBr71ArymAuMdCREBnbMfdkwpbL-BPSlGV4XFWczb6Z6b8Tda/s320/DSC06979a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336706326738402" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We bought our tickets still with the tourist hawkers following us. The museum inside was lacking a map of the site, which really would have helped in comprehension. But a large brass image of the Buddha uncovered at the site was featured at its center, and that was a neat highlight.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somapura_Mahavihara">Somapura Mahavihara</a>, the monastery located at Paharpur, was at one point the largest monastery south of the <st1:place>Himalayas</st1:place>, and according to a sign at the site, still is. It is one of three <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/322">World Heritage Sites</a> in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>, the others being the Shait Gumbad Mosque in Bagherhat and the Sundarbans. It was built during the 6<sup>th</sup> century during the Pala Dynasty. The center stupa is 72 feet tall with three tiers for circumambulation. Lining these are clay tiles carved with the images of animals and images of the Buddha. Five main images of the Buddha existed here, one buried under the stupa, and four more located on each side of the center spire. The center stupa is surrounded by a square of residential cells for the monks, 177 in total, covering a total area of 21 acres. Besides the central stupa, the site includes remnants of the washing area, the main gate, and a miniature model of the monastery. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> Ben and Somapura Mahavira behind him as seen from the museum, We walked the site taking photos, and at one point got accompanied by a Department of Archaeology tour guide who followed us the entire time giving facts about the site. The place was pretty empty. We asked about that, and he said that the site is more visited during the winter, with about 1000 visitors a month during the winter, and only about 500 a month during the summer. Foreigners show up he said, about 30 a month during the winter, and only two to five a month during the summer. So we could’ve been the only foreigners to show up all month! At one point one of the sellers popped out of nowhere trying to sell us Cokes. I had to strongly insist we didn’t want any before he’d leave. He must’ve walked ½ a mile to try to sell those to us. (pics:Somapura Mahavira's central stupa, myself/Ben in front Somapura Mahavira's central stupa as seen from the wall of the monastery, the wall of the monastery with the residential cells for the monks)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwraXf8jpgVCHhJbwD6qkSo5lRYfeTakV8Ltwf0BJFv7N43TB1OsWebPdRjZ7N-CKKv6XIw9G_2FqVlTAOohyTZ6c9COxP_Q3waEVtcn8cnM0qtSrpLNWywRXhoqZ5CUgv8bqrQfbgd73/s1600-h/DSC06943a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwraXf8jpgVCHhJbwD6qkSo5lRYfeTakV8Ltwf0BJFv7N43TB1OsWebPdRjZ7N-CKKv6XIw9G_2FqVlTAOohyTZ6c9COxP_Q3waEVtcn8cnM0qtSrpLNWywRXhoqZ5CUgv8bqrQfbgd73/s320/DSC06943a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208334395634333026" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBI6DsKzkq7hOoWYwhtZfhX3alwJMU1wx2ma-Dt8QhMEJ0fBB0BoEFVsH4OIl0tQdahMOFTgvNkP5Ubs6C5lYqinSI_E2Dklj73PWDwMekWBAW540XwdXpEBrjmQsefElerhLXIDj_JwU5/s1600-h/DSC06949a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBI6DsKzkq7hOoWYwhtZfhX3alwJMU1wx2ma-Dt8QhMEJ0fBB0BoEFVsH4OIl0tQdahMOFTgvNkP5Ubs6C5lYqinSI_E2Dklj73PWDwMekWBAW540XwdXpEBrjmQsefElerhLXIDj_JwU5/s320/DSC06949a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336203815564674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxAZMNnxV6eiBiyrvcqUcIKRn67cSiAATjd1StEszXKtE9p4c9VuT0PYtwIc46CLM2TYnizbOJEG4ixYL9vxDpizR3sp8_gj974f1eM7Rr-Wt0fg3XCGvQIFADsds4RDPPj9HyD9UOPBv/s1600-h/DSC06950a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxAZMNnxV6eiBiyrvcqUcIKRn67cSiAATjd1StEszXKtE9p4c9VuT0PYtwIc46CLM2TYnizbOJEG4ixYL9vxDpizR3sp8_gj974f1eM7Rr-Wt0fg3XCGvQIFADsds4RDPPj9HyD9UOPBv/s320/DSC06950a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336212405499282" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D8wDbMpBrRat7Svycv-hD6JhJ_e198lafPj3fz5HsyvIrTc2lcJs258oouYjiYdM32suGAH0Q40bG9dca9RChVMtnfh1lZ7p1lLPK5-Jo6nPJ4sSKsm60Tb0BDSrmitgzIGn9zxN0ATv/s1600-h/DSC06947a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D8wDbMpBrRat7Svycv-hD6JhJ_e198lafPj3fz5HsyvIrTc2lcJs258oouYjiYdM32suGAH0Q40bG9dca9RChVMtnfh1lZ7p1lLPK5-Jo6nPJ4sSKsm60Tb0BDSrmitgzIGn9zxN0ATv/s320/DSC06947a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208334399929300338" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We saved the central stupa for after we’d walked the entire monastery’s outer wall. We circumambulated the stupa on all three levels, looking at all the carvings and noticing the different views. On the top level, where the Buddha images would have been, there were stairs up to where there was an opening in the brick work. We were told to walk up and look in, and after climbing up there, I did get a bit nervous standing on the very thin ledge. (pics: myself sitting on the steps of Somapura Mahavira, Ben looking up at the top (and at a goat) from the bottommost level, Ben on the ledge looking into the opening which would've been above an image of Buddha, looking down on the thin ledge and Ben below)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToTt3CZ6TTM6xbaCpvXrP6pxhc9emBxxX6E9gS1eQHkdY8BhC_tdA9cmL-VXsFpppq-QcpaHUpkFJkgiuWT_BVYWxnqrF1j1jGbEoxDD2AUoX8FownsDyNEtPzQ0CbMbFknTXb-pkshL9/s1600-h/DSC06977a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToTt3CZ6TTM6xbaCpvXrP6pxhc9emBxxX6E9gS1eQHkdY8BhC_tdA9cmL-VXsFpppq-QcpaHUpkFJkgiuWT_BVYWxnqrF1j1jGbEoxDD2AUoX8FownsDyNEtPzQ0CbMbFknTXb-pkshL9/s320/DSC06977a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336706326738386" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoXvySCULrV-x3CBaFZiMiHmLLFF9MOXyWb-xDn_1OhqhSDHOZdqhPqXbUPvbkaKL6uuAwzVBr4vBorFclgbpj5q2ao_58kcpLF5R2Dm0TC7orZOJOqsRpgnOJjlBEFVOdQHijaq1w4k7/s1600-h/DSC06959a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoXvySCULrV-x3CBaFZiMiHmLLFF9MOXyWb-xDn_1OhqhSDHOZdqhPqXbUPvbkaKL6uuAwzVBr4vBorFclgbpj5q2ao_58kcpLF5R2Dm0TC7orZOJOqsRpgnOJjlBEFVOdQHijaq1w4k7/s320/DSC06959a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336212405499298" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aFG4WIVpwLZadUNV9ofCbD_Hvhpj7WD7R_lr2XQGOZ-B3DjqVf6k1tMPndgyOSqVWU1JOzy9m0JUsyJO2ZAgxQChzR1MNrOMLekBgTuOiObIkfS9kUZ2QVxg1KN2rR-QqsMBxi1sfaAx/s1600-h/DSC06973a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aFG4WIVpwLZadUNV9ofCbD_Hvhpj7WD7R_lr2XQGOZ-B3DjqVf6k1tMPndgyOSqVWU1JOzy9m0JUsyJO2ZAgxQChzR1MNrOMLekBgTuOiObIkfS9kUZ2QVxg1KN2rR-QqsMBxi1sfaAx/s320/DSC06973a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336216700466626" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-51h0t0HQcl0YX_AI5uSzEzA17xO6i4PR_pbaR60Y8fxZRSZc3wJxHcFPZ00sXn31vG5eCgBirtNPhgJ4CqNHtnugO-8Eeklvp2BHEAUmAiOD-haMBYGUpqIPaUOcY6xwmXCoSKsBqJaT/s1600-h/DSC06971a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-51h0t0HQcl0YX_AI5uSzEzA17xO6i4PR_pbaR60Y8fxZRSZc3wJxHcFPZ00sXn31vG5eCgBirtNPhgJ4CqNHtnugO-8Eeklvp2BHEAUmAiOD-haMBYGUpqIPaUOcY6xwmXCoSKsBqJaT/s320/DSC06971a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208336216700466610" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToTt3CZ6TTM6xbaCpvXrP6pxhc9emBxxX6E9gS1eQHkdY8BhC_tdA9cmL-VXsFpppq-QcpaHUpkFJkgiuWT_BVYWxnqrF1j1jGbEoxDD2AUoX8FownsDyNEtPzQ0CbMbFknTXb-pkshL9/s1600-h/DSC06977a.JPG"><br /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-51h0t0HQcl0YX_AI5uSzEzA17xO6i4PR_pbaR60Y8fxZRSZc3wJxHcFPZ00sXn31vG5eCgBirtNPhgJ4CqNHtnugO-8Eeklvp2BHEAUmAiOD-haMBYGUpqIPaUOcY6xwmXCoSKsBqJaT/s1600-h/DSC06971a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-51h0t0HQcl0YX_AI5uSzEzA17xO6i4PR_pbaR60Y8fxZRSZc3wJxHcFPZ00sXn31vG5eCgBirtNPhgJ4CqNHtnugO-8Eeklvp2BHEAUmAiOD-haMBYGUpqIPaUOcY6xwmXCoSKsBqJaT/s1600-h/DSC06971a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aFG4WIVpwLZadUNV9ofCbD_Hvhpj7WD7R_lr2XQGOZ-B3DjqVf6k1tMPndgyOSqVWU1JOzy9m0JUsyJO2ZAgxQChzR1MNrOMLekBgTuOiObIkfS9kUZ2QVxg1KN2rR-QqsMBxi1sfaAx/s1600-h/DSC06973a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-51h0t0HQcl0YX_AI5uSzEzA17xO6i4PR_pbaR60Y8fxZRSZc3wJxHcFPZ00sXn31vG5eCgBirtNPhgJ4CqNHtnugO-8Eeklvp2BHEAUmAiOD-haMBYGUpqIPaUOcY6xwmXCoSKsBqJaT/s1600-h/DSC06971a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aFG4WIVpwLZadUNV9ofCbD_Hvhpj7WD7R_lr2XQGOZ-B3DjqVf6k1tMPndgyOSqVWU1JOzy9m0JUsyJO2ZAgxQChzR1MNrOMLekBgTuOiObIkfS9kUZ2QVxg1KN2rR-QqsMBxi1sfaAx/s1600-h/DSC06973a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1aFG4WIVpwLZadUNV9ofCbD_Hvhpj7WD7R_lr2XQGOZ-B3DjqVf6k1tMPndgyOSqVWU1JOzy9m0JUsyJO2ZAgxQChzR1MNrOMLekBgTuOiObIkfS9kUZ2QVxg1KN2rR-QqsMBxi1sfaAx/s1600-h/DSC06973a.JPG"><br /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Our tempo back to Jaipurhat was leaking fumes really bad, and I had to cover my nose with my shirt as a filter, it was real bad. In Jaipurhat the only buses still to leave for the day going back to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> were night buses, and we really didn’t want to get into <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> at two or three in the morning. So we took a local bus back to Bogra, hoping we could catch a bus there, and cut some time off the bus back to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. <p class="MsoNormal">In Bogra we asked around and found a counter selling tickets to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. We bought one, even though the price seemed high. They gave us specific seats on the bus, and we waited for this bus which they said was coming from Naogaon and would arrive at <st1:time minute="30" hour="8">8:30</st1:time>. Well the bus which they said was coming never seemed to come. I never saw a bus of that name. Instead we watched as they yelled to every bus that passed asking if there were two seats on the bus. It seemed like we had just outsourced hitchhiking! I asked them if they were just trying to get us a seat on any bus, and they denied it vehemently. Finally a bus came they wanted us to get on, and we stepped into it and the conductor asked where we were going. We said <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, and he said they weren’t going there. So it became pretty clear our ticket was just a worthless piece of paper we paid for to allow them to hail a bus for us. I asked again, and again they denied it. I started getting annoyed as we were now waiting 40 minutes, instead of the promised ten. I could’ve used that time to find a real bus, not a hitchhiking pass. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So it came to be that I had my first fight in Bengali tonight. After it became apparent that it was pretty much an outsourced hitchhiking, I got mad. I felt they lied to me saying I had specific seats on a specific bus, yet it was just an overpriced ticket for them to yell at each bus that passed. I would not have minded that, or been angry, if they’d just told me from the start that this is what they were doing. But they kept denying even when I called them out on it. I ended up fighting with one of the guys, and going on a long tirade about how we’d now be stuck arriving in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> at 2 or <st1:time minute="0" hour="3">3 AM</st1:time>. How there is nothing we could do in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> at that time, how would we get home, etc. I think I held up my end of my first fight in Bengali pretty well. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">As fate would have it, just as the partner of the guy I was yelling at was about to give our money back, a bus came by that they flagged down which had space for Ben and I. So Ben and I got to go on with our outsourced hitchhiking ticket. They had plenty of seats. And no one ever came to us saying we were in their seats. The bus was off to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> and we’d be arriving around <st1:time minute="0" hour="2">2 AM</st1:time>. Although technically I should be writing this in next week’s post, we did arrive safely the next day at <st1:time minute="30" hour="2">2:30 AM</st1:time> and got a CNG to take us back to my flat.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-20015040098896975832008-05-28T08:42:00.027+06:002008-06-13T13:47:46.000+06:00Week 38: Playing shollo guti in Narayanganj's Sona Khanda Fort<b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/21<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal">Moweena came early so I could leave early to make it to the Nepal Embassy on time. I got there just as it opened, and there was a long line out front. I stood in it for about 20 minutes, it wasn’t going anywhere. Some guy then come up to me and asked me if I was a foreigner. He told me that I should be able to bypass the line since I’m not Bangladeshi. So he brought me to the front, told the security guard I was a foreigner, and sure enough, they opened the gate and I was allowed right in. Inside, I was given a form, I filled it out and then they processed my passport first, in front of the fifteen people sitting there waiting. This kind of special treatment always makes me feel a bit self-conscious.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then did 3 local buses, all #6 between Gulshan and Kamalapur. Nothing exciting. Was very tried after the third local bus. Decided to call it a day around <st1:time minute="0" hour="19">7pm</st1:time> instead of doing one more route. On the bus home two men talked to me almost the entire time. They live near me and were providing very good conversation.<span style=""> </span>One of the guys actually lived on my street.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My computer has been really slow. I tried cleaning it up in every way I knew, spyware, adware, temp file removal, defragmenting, etc. still having problems. Finally diagnosed that it was Gmail, only in its standard view, which was slowing me. In its HTML only view, things were fine. So for now I’m just using the HTML view.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Also noticed that there were big signs all over town <a href="http://ismailimail.wordpress.com/2008/05/07/bangladesh-prince-aga-khan-arrives-may-19/">welcoming Prince Aga Khan</a>. There were many arrangements of the <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> flag and a flag which I would find out to be his royal flag. Didn’t know who this was, and even asking some people, they thought he was the prince of another country. Well I came home to find out and saw he was very important figure in the Muslim religion, the Imam of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ismaili">Shia Imami Ismaili Muslims</a>. He was visiting for a few days and had a bunch of things he had come to accomplish, including laying the foundation for the <a href="http://ismailimail.wordpress.com/2008/05/22/aga-khan-academy-to-be-established-in-bangladesh-official-press-release/">new <st1:place><st1:placename>Aga Khan</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Academy</st1:placetype></st1:place></a>. The <a href="http://www.agakhanschools.org/bangladesh/aksd/about.asp">Aga Khan School</a> is already one of the best schools in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. Neat to see the huge welcome he received. The biggest signs were in Farmgate, but I missed getting a photo of them. (pics: signs in both English and Bengali in front of the President's complex welcoming Prince Aga Khan, alternating Bangladeshi flags and the flag of Prince Aga Khan on Airport Road)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttxFuJT_g87qR_PIh5y8qYZ4EzO2sHi1-3TJbK2IyT9bhWFNmpd3DPhJVSoyvmJOgz1qiFvThCJDuLeV0NvN7RTxJYqSUprsx5B4vOnaoF67eA8jfpyBf69PKa04gnPzay_ZzBi1EgkTy/s1600-h/DSC06653.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttxFuJT_g87qR_PIh5y8qYZ4EzO2sHi1-3TJbK2IyT9bhWFNmpd3DPhJVSoyvmJOgz1qiFvThCJDuLeV0NvN7RTxJYqSUprsx5B4vOnaoF67eA8jfpyBf69PKa04gnPzay_ZzBi1EgkTy/s320/DSC06653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205260444590912114" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY_pUMuiY70Zx-tqxgOhBzoTdX6wZhu_n9ngLPswKsRbmuMz4kdJGDiBdFI_pZVNkciULc4dgWfcUPYn9uu7XY6wpi4di3HX6l6JxVt27w34xOD0BPvp5WYaar3M_IB6jwgdhxyF6U540/s1600-h/DSC06637.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY_pUMuiY70Zx-tqxgOhBzoTdX6wZhu_n9ngLPswKsRbmuMz4kdJGDiBdFI_pZVNkciULc4dgWfcUPYn9uu7XY6wpi4di3HX6l6JxVt27w34xOD0BPvp5WYaar3M_IB6jwgdhxyF6U540/s320/DSC06637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205263116060570258" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thought I could mention how to ride bikes together here. Men ride with men, women ride with men, but women rarely ride alone…never seen it actually except for <a href="http://kboekhoff.blogspot.com/">Kristin Boekhoff</a>, a past Fulbrighter. Men straddle each other while riding. Women however, don’t straddle, it’s improper, so they ride sitting to the side, legs on the same side of the motorcycle and grasp the man with one arm. Seems very dangerous, but remember you’re never going too fast in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> traffic. This is for motorcycles. If you just have a bike, the same rules apply. There’s a little carrying shelf on the back of all bikes, and your passenger straddles the back as you ride. (pics: school boys sharing a bike with one straddling back rack, men sharing motorcycles, girl sharing a bike with a boy by sitting sideways on the back rack)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRl77yRSuOng6N4cDHFtFFR0qGs4DGM4cQAqBSr2Sy6Lf7JJp1NUfyY3wuYaUm4g5Wo264ac2HfuWIja6dHvA9EOsiAH4OIy0npw_3dto3f83K0Z0k0xIT_xOQidb-_jZRPfFrFPifIfnB/s1600-h/DSC06528.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRl77yRSuOng6N4cDHFtFFR0qGs4DGM4cQAqBSr2Sy6Lf7JJp1NUfyY3wuYaUm4g5Wo264ac2HfuWIja6dHvA9EOsiAH4OIy0npw_3dto3f83K0Z0k0xIT_xOQidb-_jZRPfFrFPifIfnB/s320/DSC06528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205260431706010178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqfTr1dDom6VC02Cl53ugS0aZJpZZTJBLY9K568agCm7hsICm28FM9QzAf_SF-C5fy1CjbJobvxspgNJ1S23XELTjTSYIcNOw4GOY2rLsQozLKhMN-gKs8BR4CwdLi3IehgbZZyhONzhD/s1600-h/DSC06662.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqfTr1dDom6VC02Cl53ugS0aZJpZZTJBLY9K568agCm7hsICm28FM9QzAf_SF-C5fy1CjbJobvxspgNJ1S23XELTjTSYIcNOw4GOY2rLsQozLKhMN-gKs8BR4CwdLi3IehgbZZyhONzhD/s320/DSC06662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205260436000977490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GUnj-IVQ_fpuVPh_H8y1sETxZUkpOsnCNy9fpV3W95_Oa-AvfzZZikKbQLFO_6wPMUVOYaH5r4ZkYyCsnt2Ml3J0-L-X4ZpTsHuCNHvw0qf4EZf5uMcykQgUHXUUb8aeQj1B8J_-Dw1r/s1600-h/DSC06802a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GUnj-IVQ_fpuVPh_H8y1sETxZUkpOsnCNy9fpV3W95_Oa-AvfzZZikKbQLFO_6wPMUVOYaH5r4ZkYyCsnt2Ml3J0-L-X4ZpTsHuCNHvw0qf4EZf5uMcykQgUHXUUb8aeQj1B8J_-Dw1r/s320/DSC06802a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211268903676080098" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/22<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today didn’t turn out as I’d planned. First off, by the time I finally started riding the buses, I discovered my voice recorder was broken, and this was around <st1:time minute="0" hour="17">5:00</st1:time> in the afternoon. What took me so long to find out? Why did I start so late? Let me explain</p> <p class="MsoNormal">First I had to post the blog. Always important. Then I headed out to gather all the visas for the Rangamati trip we’re planning on taking when Ben Gaddy is here. This included printing out Gaddy’s, picking up Jen and Ben’s from their flat (stopped to talk to Ben there too), and then to ICDDR,B to get Aaron’s.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then ran over to the <st1:country-region><st1:place>Nepal</st1:place></st1:country-region> embassy to pick up my Nepali visa. All is well, and it was very easy, the guy was even nice! Also, dropped by Naira’s after to have lunch and conversation for a bit over an hour. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lastly, swung over to the travel office in Banani and dropped off all these documents I’ve been collecting. They are nice a group of people at Bengal Tours and I’m glad they’re helping us get the clearance to go to Rangamati.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Had a hard time finding the #3 bus’ starting point. After about an hour, finally boarded.<br />Well I did it for six stops, then went to listen to the voice files because we were sitting in traffic to do some pre-processing, and it wasn’t producing any noises. Got worried. Didn’t know what was wrong. After playing with it for a few minutes, deduced that the microphone was broken and wasn’t picking up my voice. So my plans for working the rest of the day were shot. I got very frustrated, a whole day without work. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Took the voice recorder to the repair guy I went to a few months ago…even though he couldn’t repair it last time. Well this time he did a good job. The microphone was an easier repair task than a USB port. He had tons of spare microphones, he put in a new one, and things were working fine. Was very happy. I can start working again on Sunday.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The landlord’s grandson came by my flat tonight when I came home. He always is talking to me, but today he came for the first time and hung out in my flat for a bit. He discovered my electric razor. Despite my warnings that he could cut himself, he still played with it. He even tried to shave, although he is about a decade away from having facial hair. Then he thought it’d be fun to actually shave his hair a bit. That’s when I grabbed it back from him. His mother, the landlord’s daughter also came by tonight to let me know we’re going to have less water these next few days. Her son was with her. He found the razor again while I was taking to his mom about the water restrictions, and ended up shaving a bit of his hair off this time. Luckily she didn’t care. (pic: landlord's grandson and his new favorite toy...my electric razor)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOE_1YZT1wuqI5F8dt57jU1q6TuFiiNxNw8-qVQuqscv4gKMT6mTa1CNoozWy6YtJnVbVl0iwKzmuEmAwjvxSgqG2f3srnQwYnthCuhyphenhyphenFpbEYSxS0r9d1cGIllwWbH4TeirFjlLQVfI2OT/s1600-h/DSC06663.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOE_1YZT1wuqI5F8dt57jU1q6TuFiiNxNw8-qVQuqscv4gKMT6mTa1CNoozWy6YtJnVbVl0iwKzmuEmAwjvxSgqG2f3srnQwYnthCuhyphenhyphenFpbEYSxS0r9d1cGIllwWbH4TeirFjlLQVfI2OT/s320/DSC06663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205263120355537570" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Decided with the computer, under Saket’s suggestion, to use an email client. I downloaded Thunderbird so I can now email with ease without the worry of Gmail being slow. Also downloaded Google talk so I can still chat when I want to.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-3rd in Narayanganj 5/23<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been itching to get out of <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. I’ve spent almost all of May working, and I wanted to get out for a day. I got in contact with my friend Toma, and asked if she would want to go to <a href="http://banglapedia.search.com.bd/HT/N_0056.htm">Narayanganj </a>for the day. She was up for it, so around <st1:time minute="0" hour="12">noon</st1:time> we headed out from <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. I’ve been wanting to see Narayanganj as it’s the largest city close to <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, with over 240,000 people. The city lies along the bank of <st1:place><st1:placename>Shitalakshya</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>River</st1:placetype></st1:place>, just north of where it meets the Buriganga and heads to the Meghna. It is the oldest river <st1:place><st1:placetype>port</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>Bangladesh</st1:placename></st1:place>, and is now known for being a center of industry. Along the banks of the river I saw cement factories and ship repairing. (pics: Narayanganj street scene just west of the river port and bus station, cement plant on the Shitalakshya River, ship repairing yard on Shitalakshya River, major Narayanganj intersection at dusk) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMv0c7gxnqYPtMU5S57f4LR8f5er_4V5Y5fURZzvtcW58XKxzln0a5uJ43wPxPP7gnxRXcFNbO40vY86dLvfqs9z6PxmLrr16ewm0QOV2f2m2MfY9QO9TnbTAMwSvQwZc9a48WT5klkQi/s1600-h/DSC06752.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMv0c7gxnqYPtMU5S57f4LR8f5er_4V5Y5fURZzvtcW58XKxzln0a5uJ43wPxPP7gnxRXcFNbO40vY86dLvfqs9z6PxmLrr16ewm0QOV2f2m2MfY9QO9TnbTAMwSvQwZc9a48WT5klkQi/s320/DSC06752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205308002763781026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFMR5ZxfTP9Yhwny8bvB3Pkv_LmZNa3RCcA9on9kV_IRSHEWeLLbCKx5Fs-r55PdPV_OfMZNpDydgoSQagI4MFX9cZgPy883UvbMZBUMZK5oE-s8UD_hfvr9pExl4nzfMjqakam1ZmHwI/s1600-h/DSC06713.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFMR5ZxfTP9Yhwny8bvB3Pkv_LmZNa3RCcA9on9kV_IRSHEWeLLbCKx5Fs-r55PdPV_OfMZNpDydgoSQagI4MFX9cZgPy883UvbMZBUMZK5oE-s8UD_hfvr9pExl4nzfMjqakam1ZmHwI/s320/DSC06713.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205306366381241186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-Y9r6udB-gTsO5hCyZshnLEQ1vkAyxu5vDi5h0GtHdxBrCamNqDVBlrT5ERgR2-yoxCF_Vo0pdbkKte6XRXvizZRBPX71ILdf1_1CQz7VlCSWcuNRQ1BQv730SpoA3gZ6t6L0iTXBbHA/s1600-h/DSC06726.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-Y9r6udB-gTsO5hCyZshnLEQ1vkAyxu5vDi5h0GtHdxBrCamNqDVBlrT5ERgR2-yoxCF_Vo0pdbkKte6XRXvizZRBPX71ILdf1_1CQz7VlCSWcuNRQ1BQv730SpoA3gZ6t6L0iTXBbHA/s320/DSC06726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205308007058748338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzakAKIyhBnonOPCP33hRdCRT-x7UoG7hMFaDJ74Bc6EjsjU1RXDlgVhzFksueL4iYJ7LoWg7uoMwxLxqcrHVU7h-H_qhpLe-C7afi_BOni2UCZM08uwq3duCgUz-b8IPIJ-tW1U3qjQP/s1600-h/DSC06759.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzakAKIyhBnonOPCP33hRdCRT-x7UoG7hMFaDJ74Bc6EjsjU1RXDlgVhzFksueL4iYJ7LoWg7uoMwxLxqcrHVU7h-H_qhpLe-C7afi_BOni2UCZM08uwq3duCgUz-b8IPIJ-tW1U3qjQP/s320/DSC06759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205308002763781010" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">We arrived by the AC bus Asian. There are several buses we could’ve chosen, but I’ve always wanted to take the AC Asian bus because it has AC and because their bus line was imported from <st1:country-region><st1:place>Japan</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and are unique. When we got off the bus, we had no clue where to go. We walked for a bit, got some fruit to snack on. Finally decided to ask a rickshaw to take us to the river.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The river was industrialized, not a place to really hang out. Took a boat across the river to see what was on the other side. After walking for a bit we asked a guy what would be a good place to go see. He suggested Sona Khanda Fort. We had a rickshaw take us there passing through many thin twisting streets through towns to get there. (pics: streets of Narayanganj)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9xfHXF_Q38Fl0Eawmp620fZat0xsmHd11sRgI4c2rp1tf6aDpekJALjbN0hajR1apKANMTqk3ISEkVN-NN7cHOxvG5IqYbwNPBLSf1obDtPxd2pdziyRDjtfWouS1T4VQbZyWFXhH2bK/s1600-h/DSC06669.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9xfHXF_Q38Fl0Eawmp620fZat0xsmHd11sRgI4c2rp1tf6aDpekJALjbN0hajR1apKANMTqk3ISEkVN-NN7cHOxvG5IqYbwNPBLSf1obDtPxd2pdziyRDjtfWouS1T4VQbZyWFXhH2bK/s320/DSC06669.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205307989878879106" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmz9qdHFoCfuW1ud2BFG5XFre1zCfdMl0ql2F7jUkGEokCcTlODnbtGD44VSew4KPhp_b2ImWoGKctT7i7tyxlFYMRV6F801qI9lXxvIzKpeOk831A3nU3OvbqKqmWuIKkYRCWN7TTq5Tt/s1600-h/DSC06671.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmz9qdHFoCfuW1ud2BFG5XFre1zCfdMl0ql2F7jUkGEokCcTlODnbtGD44VSew4KPhp_b2ImWoGKctT7i7tyxlFYMRV6F801qI9lXxvIzKpeOk831A3nU3OvbqKqmWuIKkYRCWN7TTq5Tt/s320/DSC06671.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205306357791306562" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Sona Khanda Fort was fairly empty, and no information on how old it was. Asking someone about its age, he said maybe 200 hundred years old, but really had no clue. We walked around it but it wasn’t huge. I found out that the most use is people playing cricket and soccer on its large open space. A game even started up while we there. The fort is technically across the river from Narayanganj in the area known as Bondhor. (pics: myself in Sona Khanda Fort, Toma in front of the main gate of Sona Khanda Fort, fort's large open inner space mostly used for cricket and soccer, view east from the raised area of the fort)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIHSJw9x5FcfdTtR82c7DOC48igm-LpT0vENKHiRHUdo37EicwOEf6o4MCbeksSoo24vpt9IU_-I24W13B6bxwb_YSla0qy_AYg-P39hSlC75IEQlujMQF9JzDLBpoZiqy-k4r17HWkdC/s1600-h/DSC06681.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIHSJw9x5FcfdTtR82c7DOC48igm-LpT0vENKHiRHUdo37EicwOEf6o4MCbeksSoo24vpt9IU_-I24W13B6bxwb_YSla0qy_AYg-P39hSlC75IEQlujMQF9JzDLBpoZiqy-k4r17HWkdC/s320/DSC06681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205263128945472210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGs2_qnZ3F4uaA9KcC68g4A3_wJjH_AUfSemuSWs968eVWzyeIpwyrFe4XNm3tzL-gRKi5F4Sn6KHx8e8Mntk-A4VE1aY_09q8PADLg5Fs9_2AR3SBZ0RuMah1nn34KFX9C5F-FI-cu4_/s1600-h/DSC06704.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGs2_qnZ3F4uaA9KcC68g4A3_wJjH_AUfSemuSWs968eVWzyeIpwyrFe4XNm3tzL-gRKi5F4Sn6KHx8e8Mntk-A4VE1aY_09q8PADLg5Fs9_2AR3SBZ0RuMah1nn34KFX9C5F-FI-cu4_/s320/DSC06704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205304347746612002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Myv9fai3orzyzW9C0m7FhZwuvxyfzPL4yhw0rkmi5cGXzreALm8O-2lctnf2zYIWhRptrXrPZyOeGA28uOWmM5g-NUGC_cltV61OJQiGrmP5lPKsSQvCA9BD_u9s2ptlq19NZiYOahaV/s1600-h/DSC06678.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Myv9fai3orzyzW9C0m7FhZwuvxyfzPL4yhw0rkmi5cGXzreALm8O-2lctnf2zYIWhRptrXrPZyOeGA28uOWmM5g-NUGC_cltV61OJQiGrmP5lPKsSQvCA9BD_u9s2ptlq19NZiYOahaV/s320/DSC06678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205304334861710050" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pPvwrsu-V0Lsi8sUhGGtFJnZiUsb8iUNifNd-5ctO6_zOQspziETo05rEgv5B-eGU6GXF6-dxml9j_G3aml3TWSW38I6jYQVVdxgyI-ynGHkVpZ1DV-3YbYSL0wkQTkub4dc805tSZBI/s1600-h/DSC06686.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pPvwrsu-V0Lsi8sUhGGtFJnZiUsb8iUNifNd-5ctO6_zOQspziETo05rEgv5B-eGU6GXF6-dxml9j_G3aml3TWSW38I6jYQVVdxgyI-ynGHkVpZ1DV-3YbYSL0wkQTkub4dc805tSZBI/s320/DSC06686.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205304339156677362" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> We decided to just sit on the steps for a bit and I suggested playing shollo guti. The game, which I first played in Comilla and haven’t played since, is very simple. Shollo guti, literally means “sixteen pieces” and is just like checkers. You jump over someone to capture their piece. You follow the lines drawn on the ground for movements, with the goal being to capture all your other pieces. It also can be played anywhere, as long as you have some dirt to draw a board in, or a hard surface to scratch a board out with a rock. The board has a neat shape which creates some interesting situations, with a big square and two triangles on either end. Also a note on games like this, in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> they don’t say you “capture” a piece, you “eat” an opponent’s piece! (pics: Toma/myself playing shollo guti in Sona Khana Fort, shollo guti playing board and pieces)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXIT9GiwHTAPHyRdj042XHi1dxTQEbz1nLNkZqET_J6okrlP2DoRXZKKPPqsJoRQfE-iF1OLM8T8gXCifBV-ilM1OpffKVhofAsmmLbiytfA5wgFhyphenhyphenHixRXLwoGZ_z79pCfSqEPdmKjis/s1600-h/DSC06697.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXIT9GiwHTAPHyRdj042XHi1dxTQEbz1nLNkZqET_J6okrlP2DoRXZKKPPqsJoRQfE-iF1OLM8T8gXCifBV-ilM1OpffKVhofAsmmLbiytfA5wgFhyphenhyphenHixRXLwoGZ_z79pCfSqEPdmKjis/s320/DSC06697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205304343451644690" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-pjcWf-m7Ixu5srq-hpGljtIrQp3QeGovtrztIk1ZfjIdHgw1GSpxFQYljkhG_32oDk4uVOVDDvvpPyfFjVqkkwncBl4jISKB4vqwAHTBXVWbanHdVKScK9yybqsbRbGjheEpvKTsXiz/s1600-h/DSC06689_edit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-pjcWf-m7Ixu5srq-hpGljtIrQp3QeGovtrztIk1ZfjIdHgw1GSpxFQYljkhG_32oDk4uVOVDDvvpPyfFjVqkkwncBl4jISKB4vqwAHTBXVWbanHdVKScK9yybqsbRbGjheEpvKTsXiz/s320/DSC06689_edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205304339156677378" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">After the fort, we took a rickshaw to the nearest place on the river we could catch a launch. The building seemed to be leaning into the water. The launch actually came quickly, but we weren’t aware that it was the launch we were supposed to get on. It left without us. Confirming after it was the one we were supposed to be on, we were told another would come in a half hour. So we sat on the riverbank and watched boats go by. Small ones and big shippers. It was nice, I didn’t mind the wait, and we weren’t on a schedule so we were free to relax.<br />The launch ride was fun. The boat was tipping the whole time because the sun being on one side of the boat was making everyone sit on the other side of the boat. No one wants to sit in the sun. We arrived at the Narayanganj port, walked through it and the nearby bus station, and found a restaurant, despite it being <st1:time minute="0" hour="17">5:00</st1:time>, for lunch. (pics: dock for waiting for launch leaning into the water, <st1:placename>Shitalakshya</st1:placename> riverside showing farms and industries on opposite banks)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iWqMdqHAYh4E-nryNT-EDpqJPsi9-aPk3PrgtgyQrM8tlx6pYiPCsDLk39DzKMqve0JPL9F0fomrJCduT2z6IS0E_oBzoRMcJHica-Vses8aFNmYRl5r5pfYxdzU3qcJV3VX8vl_iLIr/s1600-h/DSC06714.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iWqMdqHAYh4E-nryNT-EDpqJPsi9-aPk3PrgtgyQrM8tlx6pYiPCsDLk39DzKMqve0JPL9F0fomrJCduT2z6IS0E_oBzoRMcJHica-Vses8aFNmYRl5r5pfYxdzU3qcJV3VX8vl_iLIr/s320/DSC06714.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205306366381241202" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-wlh33AjZu539_tMPfIhGasm0UnXtreBiRlpxASSZUrxLuXER7K6a8SQxfOrz2A4qnyGik0GBCClMGAtMNpLSyJPs24tpeEnUn06y05Zk7v3r0Xl2Ir-gbdqaO3f0T5WQ643TWzrAcnD/s1600-h/DSC06710.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-wlh33AjZu539_tMPfIhGasm0UnXtreBiRlpxASSZUrxLuXER7K6a8SQxfOrz2A4qnyGik0GBCClMGAtMNpLSyJPs24tpeEnUn06y05Zk7v3r0Xl2Ir-gbdqaO3f0T5WQ643TWzrAcnD/s320/DSC06710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205306362086273874" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Then walked back through the streets in town to find another bus to go home. Passed a funny sight, a rickshaw sitting at a gas pump. When I first saw it I did a double take. Noticed only after that there was a guy with a gas tank in it filling it up. But the photo is still pretty humorous. (pic: "Fill 'er up!" "Where?")<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBpBi0zvTl3mcHHBCtfawrwgOq-TFmWc9ybq6SzpJjep8lho_d59hKa7x1EZGPwqOAHOD-2lk5_wfGThEQ8nnBFhXlmQTHTEimFfvodYGJfhjPi4oR-K-F-N70E8Lx0YivfagrHlDITt4/s1600-h/DSC06756.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBpBi0zvTl3mcHHBCtfawrwgOq-TFmWc9ybq6SzpJjep8lho_d59hKa7x1EZGPwqOAHOD-2lk5_wfGThEQ8nnBFhXlmQTHTEimFfvodYGJfhjPi4oR-K-F-N70E8Lx0YivfagrHlDITt4/s320/DSC06756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205260440295944802" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-4th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/24<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Found out that the Rangamati permission is not going to be allowed to be performed by the tour agency. I had a feeling something would go wrong, that’s the case a lot in my planning of trips. Today, upon them telling me that they were not being allowed, I quickly drafted a letter to request permission myself, went across town to their office, picked up the copies of the visas and passports, and then headed over to Gulshan-2 to fax it all over. Will have to send it all by courier service tomorrow, then call back to see if they received the papers. Then hope that they give the permission papers to the check post so that we are allowed into Rangamati.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The reason I need all this permission is because Rangamati is in the hill tracts and due to conflicts there with tribal groups, foreigners need to request permission, for liability purposes. They want to keep track of any foreigners in the region.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After this I headed over to Leigh’s house, where a birthday party for a guy I would meet, <st1:place>Devon</st1:place>, was being held. The main reason I went though was for the foosball tournament that was going along with the party. I had been invited by Aaron. The tournament was supposed to be doubles and Aaron said he thought twenty people were going to show up. Well only twelve did for foosball, but the tournament was still fun, double elimination. My partner was Leigh and we won our first game, lost, and then in the loser’s bracket, won our first match and then lost to the eventual champions.<br />The rest of the night was fun too. We played a game called 25 Words or Less and I proved to be pretty proficient at it. Would play it again. Snacks and foods were all American fare, and I thoroughly enjoyed it all, haven’t had sandwiches or hot wings or tortilla chips and salsa for awhile. Plus there was birthday cake. (pics: Ifte/Aaron vs. Devon/Sarah in championship game of foosball, Devon blows out his birthday candles)<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyslN6K5CqHuC3-3AvPLwHUtEoRAhgO3RI5RPJP13BX1wf_uNNqqYu3iYQGvmt7-kWbaCmET8Kjn4mWklcp5Y9ORrUbud3z8jW3yUAXgOeecjFK5evEV6RbwtYu8DD0t2AwnBZsCSluLDQ/s1600-h/DSC06769.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyslN6K5CqHuC3-3AvPLwHUtEoRAhgO3RI5RPJP13BX1wf_uNNqqYu3iYQGvmt7-kWbaCmET8Kjn4mWklcp5Y9ORrUbud3z8jW3yUAXgOeecjFK5evEV6RbwtYu8DD0t2AwnBZsCSluLDQ/s320/DSC06769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205263124650504882" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKAm-FnjydvzOzeMrgTZ5CIU6d019wFU4aUGQLqaKy0HqAHPHQgVlyZz3I9XFoM6auFEpWgk2VF8LlZ2Mx8n0o5lq3picxmUBAMhCWE8m0VKXzy2NFgINH4Ip3WYMDi6IgbUSdF8z4kq4/s1600-h/DSC06764.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKAm-FnjydvzOzeMrgTZ5CIU6d019wFU4aUGQLqaKy0HqAHPHQgVlyZz3I9XFoM6auFEpWgk2VF8LlZ2Mx8n0o5lq3picxmUBAMhCWE8m0VKXzy2NFgINH4Ip3WYMDi6IgbUSdF8z4kq4/s320/DSC06764.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205263124650504898" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyslN6K5CqHuC3-3AvPLwHUtEoRAhgO3RI5RPJP13BX1wf_uNNqqYu3iYQGvmt7-kWbaCmET8Kjn4mWklcp5Y9ORrUbud3z8jW3yUAXgOeecjFK5evEV6RbwtYu8DD0t2AwnBZsCSluLDQ/s1600-h/DSC06769.JPG"> </a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-5th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/25<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Went to the courier service’s office and to send out the copies of our passports and the permission letter for Rangamati. I was then very nervous to call the Rangamati Police Department and Government offices to tell them I’d sent a fax yesterday, and confirm they’d received it. My telephone Bengali is not very good, and I usually have a hard time understanding theirs. Was also worried I’d be a nuisance. But things didn’t go too bad, but not perfect. It took them awhile to understand me, and me to understand them. But finally verified that the police received my fax and had given permission to go to Rangamati.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Met with Dr. Rahman at BUET for about 45 minutes. Discussed the data collection, the differences between ticket and local buses, and graduate schools. He wants me to start analyzing data now so that I can find any data gaps, and I’m going to try doing that more. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Had dinner at Jen and Ben’s. They had invited me over to their flat for some Mexican food. I arrived and they were finishing cooking. I got to help by flipping the tortillas. The food beats out any attempt of Mexican food by any restaurant in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>. We tried out some new grain that a friend of theirs had sent to them in the mail.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyslN6K5CqHuC3-3AvPLwHUtEoRAhgO3RI5RPJP13BX1wf_uNNqqYu3iYQGvmt7-kWbaCmET8Kjn4mWklcp5Y9ORrUbud3z8jW3yUAXgOeecjFK5evEV6RbwtYu8DD0t2AwnBZsCSluLDQ/s1600-h/DSC06769.JPG"> </a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-6th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/26<o:p></o:p></u></b><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow woke up at <st1:time minute="30" hour="16">4:30</st1:time>. I decided to stay up, no use lying in bed and being frustrated over not sleeping. I started adding pictures to facebook and also working on a new page for donaldkatz.com. It is a <a href="http://www.donaldkatz.com/music/">music page,</a> pretty much a discography of all the music I’ve helped make. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then thought, if I’m up this early, I might as well go catch the sunrise over <st1:place><st1:placename>Dhanmondi</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>. So I went out with my camera at <st1:time hour="5" minute="10">5:10am</st1:time> and headed to the lake. The streets were already stirring. The lake had many walkers, there were people selling vegetables, and beggars were begging. Stood by the fence and took photos as the sun rose over a mosque and the fancy boat-like house. Some guy stood and talked with me about the entire time. By the time I left around <st1:time minute="45" hour="17">5:45</st1:time>, the streets were very lively. Tons of walkers and joggers, bus #13 was running. Amazing how lively things are so early, much more than in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region> when I’d get up to row in <st1:city><st1:place>Raleigh</st1:place></st1:city> or <st1:city><st1:place>Philadelphia</st1:place></st1:city>. (pics: Sat Masjid Road at 5:15am busy with activity, vegetable carts at Dhanmondi Lake just before sunrise, mosque and fancy boat-like house at Dhanmondi Lake, sunrise over Dhanmondi Lake)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQ-G4iv7UYkp9MM7GIXuPWNZrAd0Ou5-boYKBBbZ60fU4oTyFo9nARz7enGGC6ch3P8W-fb4BwcqAq4bAKcT0vTgLqudSopyNNrfs5R3wlGpM0tjHXNRJYVKWY3Z4X2YOn4z3J2NtaCeC/s1600-h/DSC06798.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQ-G4iv7UYkp9MM7GIXuPWNZrAd0Ou5-boYKBBbZ60fU4oTyFo9nARz7enGGC6ch3P8W-fb4BwcqAq4bAKcT0vTgLqudSopyNNrfs5R3wlGpM0tjHXNRJYVKWY3Z4X2YOn4z3J2NtaCeC/s320/DSC06798.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205639140447335362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRK4gbzBwyH_eUHHGLcPfIsMQCcFFWTIaVbPe6Vp527uBNo9fVFClzySMQl3_nWULLjPbqrTGVOtWzvMSJjgaK3PhiC6V8lJNmwmM9COp1zk2ys21IGUMuwPY64ezu4zeuove9FDClaenq/s1600-h/DSC06802.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRK4gbzBwyH_eUHHGLcPfIsMQCcFFWTIaVbPe6Vp527uBNo9fVFClzySMQl3_nWULLjPbqrTGVOtWzvMSJjgaK3PhiC6V8lJNmwmM9COp1zk2ys21IGUMuwPY64ezu4zeuove9FDClaenq/s320/DSC06802.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205639161922171874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcV_qid2ViFPRdGyRpasr6UBsqwOCK5UAIZA-zpAbXiOCBPpj29bsDYlOY1YZ55Q4qaCm-HPEU27BzR7J0xwlRkB__fWPua1mQVzwKrIWL4rjI_TA_QmaJJrZmjNODK5NPC-bqLLKCIvm/s1600-h/DSC06800.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcV_qid2ViFPRdGyRpasr6UBsqwOCK5UAIZA-zpAbXiOCBPpj29bsDYlOY1YZ55Q4qaCm-HPEU27BzR7J0xwlRkB__fWPua1mQVzwKrIWL4rjI_TA_QmaJJrZmjNODK5NPC-bqLLKCIvm/s320/DSC06800.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205639153332237266" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCG2B9qHXR1BII42HYqr2PRqrsB3THszn6Wy_EeyDwuLsLPQqLqWJd8DNbDYrla9UgTpM3k4joa4VwJMQUuWwCGkDI-gtLlVop59JX-hx0U6hYY56pWdUOBc0Sxh3y4iJK5qHLWZM7D83/s1600-h/DSC06829.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCG2B9qHXR1BII42HYqr2PRqrsB3THszn6Wy_EeyDwuLsLPQqLqWJd8DNbDYrla9UgTpM3k4joa4VwJMQUuWwCGkDI-gtLlVop59JX-hx0U6hYY56pWdUOBc0Sxh3y4iJK5qHLWZM7D83/s320/DSC06829.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205639166217139186" border="0" /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Later in the morning, I talked to parents on skype. We chatted for about an hour, first time in awhile.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Today, after the morning, took some turns in the other direction. First, </span><span style="color:black;">it poured</span><span style="color:black;"> and I</span><span style="color:black;"> wasn</span><span style="color:black;">’</span><span style="color:black;">t ready</span><span style="color:black;">. It really started coming down when I </span><span style="color:black;">was in a tempo</span><span style="color:black;"> heading to visit Farhan at his university, and the whole left half of me got soaked. Then I had to walk in it umbrella-less and without my rain shoes, so the other half got equally soaked. </span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p><br />I was meeting Farhan to see the (his) new campus of Ahsanullah University of Science and Technology. The campus was incredible. It is well designed, with the one building campus facing inwards on a massive courtyard. Thus it feels like it’s a much bigger campus than it actually is, and gives the impression there are more than just the one building. If I had an urban campus in a big building, this is what I’d want. All the students hang out on the breezeways and face each other. Big whoops and yells are constantly happening, and although it disrupts classes a bit, it seems like the students are having a blast there, and enjoying their new academic home. Today, because it was raining, kids were playfully slipping, sliding, splashing, and rolling around in the water. (pics: Ahsanullah University's new campus' front entrance, students hanging out on tiered breezeways</span>, Farhan looks out over his new university, Ahsanullah University's campus entrance area)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-392zPKR0GZPvxL_gqvycHpY96pDuR6uYLr0dxWrTng2y6yF-ukW1RE47cDnNZC8q36ID8Wsm0x14rB9p_0w0e6WxE3Dzho-4WDMwLkIsowRdrR8Osb_1zHGmAzVfJru_LWmFCX5yUPx/s1600-h/DSC06870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-392zPKR0GZPvxL_gqvycHpY96pDuR6uYLr0dxWrTng2y6yF-ukW1RE47cDnNZC8q36ID8Wsm0x14rB9p_0w0e6WxE3Dzho-4WDMwLkIsowRdrR8Osb_1zHGmAzVfJru_LWmFCX5yUPx/s320/DSC06870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205642022370391090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnaZ0GB4GApv3ps_7pofCWK97Z7CVqsAxvp2ZclSorNT2X9tjhu9uQNiYa2QvrsRCzwKLax6_4tXF9SXhR-yi2cwCKXauLTp5ItyxSKK04V0GcGeU2-1yE6kaku8SN7xirv-Ln9iRVf3AJ/s1600-h/DSC06852.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnaZ0GB4GApv3ps_7pofCWK97Z7CVqsAxvp2ZclSorNT2X9tjhu9uQNiYa2QvrsRCzwKLax6_4tXF9SXhR-yi2cwCKXauLTp5ItyxSKK04V0GcGeU2-1yE6kaku8SN7xirv-Ln9iRVf3AJ/s320/DSC06852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205642005190521858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhqDB6YKoeKn5hswBAkmhT_j3bHzY-OYwHhD00s7goNLAMNenzZWz0L7HtYXCaGFYGawKb8VpJEqPy5MkhAoeH8Gw-3u3muAFoEaBbWnfoyhnJdqKkzW7Y1lPtx8GbSa9UqDyuDU1dDlS/s1600-h/DSC06865.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhqDB6YKoeKn5hswBAkmhT_j3bHzY-OYwHhD00s7goNLAMNenzZWz0L7HtYXCaGFYGawKb8VpJEqPy5MkhAoeH8Gw-3u3muAFoEaBbWnfoyhnJdqKkzW7Y1lPtx8GbSa9UqDyuDU1dDlS/s320/DSC06865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205642018075423778" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvEgR3OiaO8b6DrmrNPNQFeqZmy_xLtFryq24ioRoI33i2kavwuwEezjMi2FdjcaQtngRHNAJHZjOowfGP96iedwgUj-fFl0EeunIWeNix8On0InpXn8Je4kFldLuyg7wRrZxhdS_83Yb/s1600-h/DSC06858.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvEgR3OiaO8b6DrmrNPNQFeqZmy_xLtFryq24ioRoI33i2kavwuwEezjMi2FdjcaQtngRHNAJHZjOowfGP96iedwgUj-fFl0EeunIWeNix8On0InpXn8Je4kFldLuyg7wRrZxhdS_83Yb/s320/DSC06858.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205642013780456466" border="0" /></a><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">The labs all seemed really well fitted, although the civil engineering labs have yet to receive their equipment. Cafeteria is also still without furniture and its kitchen. Some other things are yet to be ready too, but it’s good the students are here, it brings new energy to their studies.</span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Realized while I was touring the campus that I had left my gas on back home. Had to go back to turn it off before doing other things today. That kept my mind busy for the two hours until I could get back. Lots of traffic because of the rain. While at home to turn off the gas, I changed into dry clothes, grabbed my rain sandals, and an umbrella. Then headed out to the buses now prepared for whatever conditions.</span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Bus riding was fine, was exhausted form getting up at </span><st1:time minute="30" hour="16"><span style="color:black;">4:30</span></st1:time><span style="color:black;">, but still ready for the challenge. All this was fine until the last bus. This last bus only did half its route, and left me far from home. It also filled up for gas while I was riding. All this compounded to me missing a bus I could’ve taken after the mid-route finish. Had to invent ways to get home, none of which proved very efficient. By the time I got back to Jigatola, it was </span><st1:time minute="0" hour="23"><span style="color:black;">11pm</span></st1:time><span style="color:black;">. T</span><span style="color:black;">hen had to figure out dinner</span><span style="color:black;"> and buy groceries. An exhausting end to a very long day.</span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>38<sup>th</sup>-7th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/27<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Called the Deputy Collector of Rangamati this morning. They said they never got my fax. They hung up on me mid-conversation too. Wasn’t too comforting. I’m going to resend the fax tomorrow and then call on Thursday. By that point I think they’ll have received the courier package, and I can inquire about both.</span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Took my first bus today from Kamalapur to Gulshan. Then had to go by the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color:black;">American</span></st1:placename><span style="color:black;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color:black;">Center</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color:black;"> to pick up an invitation. Tomorrow night is a July 4 party hosted by the American Embassy. Yes I know it’s May. The Fulbrights were invited, but the invitation never arrived at my house, so I had to get it from the Center. </span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Had lunch at Pizza End, at </span><st1:time hour="17" minute="0"><span style="color:black;">5pm</span></st1:time><span style="color:black;">, the last pizza place in </span><st1:place><span style="color:black;">Dhaka</span></st1:place><span style="color:black;"> I’ve yet to eat at. Pretty good. I’d put it 4</span><sup><span style="color:black;">th</span></sup><span style="color:black;"> or 5</span><sup><span style="color:black;">th</span></sup><span style="color:black;"> on the list after DPavement, Pizza Hut, Bella Italia, and maybe ahead of Shawarma House. </span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">Second bus was from Uttara to Gulistan, the #3. I found it’s starting point and the bus got really packed. Was glad. But by the time the bus ended, two hours later, I was exhausted, had no energy to do a third bus and it was dark now. I explored the area the bus ended in, Banga Bazar in Fulbaria because I was told I might find scout patches there, no luck. I took the #7 bus home.</span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;">I applied to some jobs on Careerbuilder.com tonight. A whole bunch of entry level transportation jobs. </span><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p><br />My dad told me about Weezer’s new album. Don’t know how I missed reading about it. Excited after hearing the single.</span></p>And I just noticed while posting this blog: Bangladesh's Google Map is now updated!!!! It includes roads, parks, area names, and everything else!<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-45910012161350261902008-05-21T23:35:00.015+06:002008-05-22T10:20:55.500+06:00Week 37: Saving money not buying toothbrushes, keep it for the litchis (saying goodbye to some US returnees)<b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/14<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Met up with more people today than I’ve met up with in weeks. I didn’t work much at home, only getting some data processing done. Spent majority of the morning posting the blog which included a virtual tour of BUET.</span><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">For lunch, I met Nafisa, who leaves in less than a week, at American Burger. As her Fulbright is ending, we had plenty to talk about: our projects, reports, Fulbright itself, leaving, and of course her engagement and wedding. It seems like she’ll be coming back next year to work for a bit after her marriage to her husband. However, she is looking forward to seeing her family at home in a week. We also talked a lot about our graduate school planning. We’re both at the same point in our processes, and we shared stories of letters we’ve sent and advice we’ve received.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">In the evening, I headed to Gulshan, where Naira and I had planned to meet at Time Out. We ordered a certain mango drink which is only available now, during the peak mango season. As well, I decided to order a dosa for a small snack before dinner. I had no clue how big it would be though; dosas are huge as I’d find out. Though it’s very thin and you eat a lot to fill you up. It was delicious, found a new Indian food favorite.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">After this, I met up at Arirang for Megan’s goodbye dinner. She leaves tomorrow. Well we thought she did, she told us tonight that she changed her flight to Saturday, so she has a bit more time left. Korean food was good, and we ordered a few dishes for the eleven of us there. I was the first to arrive by about fifteen minutes. We were there pretty late, late enough that when Karen and I headed back to Dhanmondi, I began worrying even the local buses had stopped. But alas, one finally came, and despite it making many stops (being very local) on the way home, we made it back, and my faith in buses was upheld.</span> (pics: L to R Erin, Ben, Jen, Rebecca, Farrah, Ifte, Leigh, Megan, myself, Aaron, Karen at Megan's goodbye dinner)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OfuEpmhSuF42zFJbHjZoRUfUI9RJgynRhlPeEHiICqLokYQyWTL0nAYFRp67A0CykfqiDqTi8DPvAEG_MVZwJDD3i7Nq3opr6PA6T5F2dSDFdSQMEWTvGG9So_IecpAoX-XlhSDAu_EG/s1600-h/DSC06605.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OfuEpmhSuF42zFJbHjZoRUfUI9RJgynRhlPeEHiICqLokYQyWTL0nAYFRp67A0CykfqiDqTi8DPvAEG_MVZwJDD3i7Nq3opr6PA6T5F2dSDFdSQMEWTvGG9So_IecpAoX-XlhSDAu_EG/s320/DSC06605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202889007603095890" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/15<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today’s goal, as I received Travis’ visa last night, was to finish the purchase of plane tickets. Almost didn't happen. When I first walked in three weeks ago, and again one week ago, I asked if it'd be okay to purchase a ticket for him, and they said yes. Well even today, when I walked with everything we needed, they still said yes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But alas, they found a problem. They were concerned since I didn’t have a copy for his ticket out of <st1:city><st1:place>Delhi</st1:place></st1:city> that he might try to illegally stay in the country. They wanted a copy of his ticket. After deciding this was moot, they said he needed to be present to buy the ticket. Sometimes it feels like they are trying to encourage me not to travel.<br />Well I sit there steaming. The agent sits there looking blankly at the papers I'd given her, and the computer. She then goes next door, comes back, asks for my credit card, and starts processing the whole transaction.<br />I never got an explanation of why things all of a sudden were "okay" but I just sat there with an unchanged expression, hoping that being angry was fueling the process. Well another hiccup was on its way. They were out of the credit charging papers, and thus couldn't charge my credit card. They tell me they can't do the purchase today because they don't have the papers. Frustrated, I ask if their other office (across town) has them. They make a call, and find they do, and they tell the office I'm coming over. So I take the bus two hours across town (granted, this is a very short distance, but traffic is horrible, I go about one mile in 45 minutes at one point) to the other office. I finally am able to purchase tickets because they have a credit card form. Purchased! The total time invested in buying tickets is now around eight hours!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To give a good example of what I’ve mentioned before as all things gathering a crowd, today our bus watched a concrete mixing machine. We were sitting in traffic, and to our left, at a building under construction, a concrete mixer started up. Instantly, everyone’s head spun to watch the interesting sight! And it wasn’t just a “oh what was that” kind of watch. It was a “this is the most interesting thing I might see all day” kind of watch. Some people, who were on the far side of the bus, even stood up to get a good view! In total of the 34 people on the bus, 18 of us (including me) watched the concrete mixer do its thing for the few minutes we were sitting there in traffic, and three people had at least stood up at some point for the better view of the concrete mixer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After riding three buses, I went to <st1:place><st1:placename>Bashundara</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>City</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Opu had invited all of us out for a birthday treating. His birthday was two days ago, so he was going to treat us to food at the food court. Nipu, Ayon, Farhan, and Saquib were there along with me. We got some shawarmas and Sprites, and later some watermelon juice. Hung out there for about an hour and a half. Saquib told us about his new part-time job at an advertising/design firm. He was all dressed up and even had to take a call while we there. (pics: Ayon/Farhan at Bashundara City for Opu's birthday treat, Saquib/Opu at Bashundara City)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RyyE7KmIo0oLw8CRx-TW6VUUS48K-84Lhwj9kbkWcIOev-fIdytmtV2aFyg97fiI_ReNZJzTqiIClpVG8Lh2-eiNE0Q1XgcMCigPD8BF-1v6gyoenBopBuMpc3TMNfOufajd2sBTd7yD/s1600-h/DSC06608.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RyyE7KmIo0oLw8CRx-TW6VUUS48K-84Lhwj9kbkWcIOev-fIdytmtV2aFyg97fiI_ReNZJzTqiIClpVG8Lh2-eiNE0Q1XgcMCigPD8BF-1v6gyoenBopBuMpc3TMNfOufajd2sBTd7yD/s320/DSC06608.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202889024782965106" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKutinFZuNYGk_VKdna79kzWw2rwFKpNjpCXOzts4QI2NEe2DRAg-pABlhMAsQTgHd9Bn6mHe0AorqZwIp_QMDh-23ek10zv9S29Qvj_KsQHcXE8NiSnLYdUenZdc4Yourb2VgFiLFLh7/s1600-h/DSC06607.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKutinFZuNYGk_VKdna79kzWw2rwFKpNjpCXOzts4QI2NEe2DRAg-pABlhMAsQTgHd9Bn6mHe0AorqZwIp_QMDh-23ek10zv9S29Qvj_KsQHcXE8NiSnLYdUenZdc4Yourb2VgFiLFLh7/s320/DSC06607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202889011898063202" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Right after met Diya in Dhanmondi for 40 minutes for some roadside tea. We talked for awhile. I mostly complained about not working as fast as I’d like, and she complained about her A-level exams. Rode one more bus after, and I was really worried that because it was getting late, it wouldn’t get crowded….wrong! It was gloriously crowded, and it made me happy to end the work week like that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-3rd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/16<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This morning, Moweena cut herself while cooking. I didn’t know it until I saw her putting some of my toothpaste on her finger. I had no clue what was going on, so I asked, and she said she cut herself, and this would cover the wound…</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Mohan came over at some point, he picked up the rest of his stuff, and stayed to chat for a bit. Later, he called me saying I should come over for dinner tonight as his mother is in town, and she would like to meet me.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I headed out to visit a slew of people. I visited Megan in Baridhara to say goodbye before she leaves tomorrow, Tamzid in Uttara, and got a snack with Ragini after in Dhanmondi.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Later I went to dinner at Mohan’s. Got to meet his mother, she was very sweet. The television was on so conversation wasn’t flowing as we kept getting distracted, but we did talk about her job as a teacher, her students, and her daughter who just got married. She asked me some questions too, but nothing out of the ordinary. Dinner was simple: eggs, rice, spinach, and potato and mutton dish. They said the mutton was actually goat head, and it is my first time eating that, at least to my knowledge. His mother served us and watched us eat.<br />After Mohan and I watched TV for a bit. First time watching Bangladeshi TV in a long time. I was understanding more than I have since I last watched, even the comedies. Humor can sometimes be lost with me because it can be a silly topic, and I always doubt that the ridiculous things I’m hearing are really the right thing, or just a misinterpretation. Tonight’s example was that the main character was being told by his boss to go get to the streets and get into fights to see how beat up he could get…that is why after I asked Mohan for verification on this.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-4th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/17<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A morning of processing, and an afternoon of databasing. A very typical Saturday for these past few weeks. I spend the morning at home processing as much data as I can, until I have to go to BUET to database them all. Usually getting lunch someplace fun. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">In between lunch and getting to BUET I dropped by New Market. Had to return, for the second time, some of the jeans I had bought. Again two pairs were too tight. Exchanging is a bit tough, they don’t seem to believe me when I say they don’t fit.<br />As I’m nearing the end of my ticket buses, its time I finally get to compile a fun piece of data I’ve been collecting: people selling things on the bus. Now the list is quite long for the types of items you can buy, but let me touch on a few things before I give you the numbers. All of this information will ultimately be in the report I write from her as bus sellers and beggars affect a passenger’s comfort level for riding buses.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">First, I’ve defined bus hawkers to be people who actually come onto the bus to sell their goods. This does not mean they also don’t sell things in the street, and in fact, they likely spend more time selling things on the street walking between buses. However, they were counted as a bus hawker when they boarded the bus to get sales inside. (pics: bus hawkers selling water between buses, bus hawker selling a newspaper on the bus)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3PieLrKBXDxhbGqFbtmuo1N6RXODkc0ink8fJATaoDLO1szWwjZrKhZd6a52WRTLohRtob1LslVg_fHN9KONXhoTUEXum7oGkuiTE2s0Qzz95Cqjy723SAkbp5OnQcSIfjXb8c7UL4d8/s1600-h/DSC06513.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3PieLrKBXDxhbGqFbtmuo1N6RXODkc0ink8fJATaoDLO1szWwjZrKhZd6a52WRTLohRtob1LslVg_fHN9KONXhoTUEXum7oGkuiTE2s0Qzz95Cqjy723SAkbp5OnQcSIfjXb8c7UL4d8/s320/DSC06513.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203043605811016210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOXVEbPh3FlmwUJzSpHlXnYoJzOmuhERBQnl44wzpqvF8yQ-hRBi-wp1ccJxLaRgOJSq3SfbX8t12fZVG8LUDdkKH9fEeZwidIOZHR7oy7UZJLScPGscQ1TT4G00hgjahr208Hbkyr5f2H/s1600-h/DSC06408.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOXVEbPh3FlmwUJzSpHlXnYoJzOmuhERBQnl44wzpqvF8yQ-hRBi-wp1ccJxLaRgOJSq3SfbX8t12fZVG8LUDdkKH9fEeZwidIOZHR7oy7UZJLScPGscQ1TT4G00hgjahr208Hbkyr5f2H/s320/DSC06408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203043597221081602" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The most popular items such as water, cucumbers, popcorn, ice cream, and newspapers are almost constantly seen walking between buses, and are just some of the many sellers who come inside the bus. Many items, such as toothbrushes, dictionaries, razor blades, or face wipes are only vended on the bus, and are usually preceded by a speech before being sold. The seller will stand at the front of the bus, try to scream above the engine’s noise, and give a small bit trying to talk up their product. This speech generally has a common pattern with a description how life is bad without the product, demonstration of the product and how it’ll improve life, saying how expensive the item would be if you bought it in the market as opposed to from the seller, and then talk about how great a deal they are getting. (pics: cucumber bus hawker, water bus hawker)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLp0DTuuy2Y3ga9_O3t6jBTUleNzZEmdEDCukPnW8rj1N2TwK361EA9nLku0y8QblMH70vwND6zhXMO0Fpq3vFXpdZVxDLwEbacPC3H1l4l4EF5F2KYVChBL8usrP-kOaVV7rFc4Mk1I5L/s1600-h/DSC06627.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLp0DTuuy2Y3ga9_O3t6jBTUleNzZEmdEDCukPnW8rj1N2TwK361EA9nLku0y8QblMH70vwND6zhXMO0Fpq3vFXpdZVxDLwEbacPC3H1l4l4EF5F2KYVChBL8usrP-kOaVV7rFc4Mk1I5L/s320/DSC06627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203043605811016226" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GsDKoc_0vDtG8ZHcCvURsWc4iSepU7qkWyEJy5NITfa5b3ob_9nXWdGoVLepCWUFSpwnNNZ83Em12Jck3tyybqbghqQ6P2PxkVAw6HS87greCUaFBRXnQ4AxLIVt-aemMxcMm3TB0J7V/s1600-h/DSC06633.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GsDKoc_0vDtG8ZHcCvURsWc4iSepU7qkWyEJy5NITfa5b3ob_9nXWdGoVLepCWUFSpwnNNZ83Em12Jck3tyybqbghqQ6P2PxkVAw6HS87greCUaFBRXnQ4AxLIVt-aemMxcMm3TB0J7V/s320/DSC06633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203043610105983538" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The other people I kept track of are bus beggars. There are different categories of beggars, the most common being a beggar with some form of physical problem such as blindness, missing appendages, burn scars, and distorted figures. They come onto the bus and make an effort to show their problem to bus riders. For example, if your arm is twisted in the wrong direction, you would roll up your sleeve and then put that arm in people’s faces. Or if you don’t have an arm, you would walk up and down the aisle of the bus stating simply repeating “I don’t have an arm.”<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The other kinds of beggars include beggars with credentials. These beggars all are healthy, but have proof for what they are begging for. Perhaps it is a handwritten story of a family member with a problem along with a photograph or simply just a hospital bill. Other beggars come onto the bus and sing a song, usually praising Allah. These tend to be old men.<br />Although most beggars are men, there is one type of beggar which is predominantly female. This beggar type has a typed letter which they hand out to each person describing what they are begging for. They don’t say a word, just hand out the letters walking up the aisle, and then walk back down the aisle collecting the slips back and any money that’s been donated. Sometimes they provide a piece of sucking candy as an incentive to donate. It is polite not to throw away their piece of paper, and simply hand it back to them.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Bus hawkers and beggars are only permitted to come onto the bus if the conductors let them. Conductors certainly use their discretion. Some let no one on, some let all on, some only allow sellers and no beggars, and some allow no sellers and only beggars. However many scamper on unnoticed by waiting in the line of boarders, taking a seat, and then when the bus starts moving, standing up and trying to sell their item or beg. This is mostly for the smaller items that can be concealed in a bag or beggars who don’t have a physical problem. Conductors usually don’t try to pull them off the bus once they are on and starting to sell, sing, or beg.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So on to the numbers. Not all hawkers are represented here as I only kept track of those who came on the bus while I was collecting data. So those who were selling Bengali-Arabic dictionaries, cell phone screen covers, carrots, or peanuts somehow did not come on in my many rides and did not get recorded. Other items, such as cough drops, only got sold twice while riding, although I feel that they are sold a lot more often than that. Otherwise, I think the list is pretty comprehensive for the period I was recording. The first column is the name of the item, second the cost, and third how many times it was observed. I assumed a donation of Tk2 to each beggar, as this is the smallest bill and easy to give away. But I commonly see donations of Tk5 and Tk10. In total, if I had donated Tk2 to each beggar, and bought from each seller who came on the bus (data was collected over 70 bus rides), I would’ve spent Tk1195 total, about Tk17 per bus ride! </p> <table class="MsoNormalTable" style="width: 234.75pt; margin-left: 4.65pt; border-collapse: collapse;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="313"> <tbody><tr style="height: 13.5pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none solid solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 13.5pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">Item</span></b><b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 13.5pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">Price (Tk)</span></b><b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid solid none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 13.5pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">Occurrenc</span></b><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">es</span></b><b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Water</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >18</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Popcorn</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >28</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Beggar w/ credentials</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >5</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Beggar w/ injury</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >25</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Toothpaste</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Cucumber</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Beggar (just begging)</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >4</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Folding toothbrush</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Newspaper</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >21</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Shaving razors</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Ice cream</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >12</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Book about plants</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >20</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Dates</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Dontation letters slip</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Cough drops</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Hand towels</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Breathing masks</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Face wipes (4)</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Pen</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >5</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Chocolates/Mints</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >5</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Beggar w/ song</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Pens w/ lights</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >2</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Tiger Energy Drink</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >20</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Music CD</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >50</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Sweat rags</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >3</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Toothbrush w/ changeable heads</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >20</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Toothbrush</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >3</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Flowers</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Bengali-English dictionary</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >Push pencils</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >10</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid none none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >1</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> <tr style="height: 12.75pt;"> <td style="border-style: none none solid solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 151pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="201"> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >DVDs about Koran</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid solid; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 48pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="64"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >60</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> <td style="border-style: none solid solid none; padding: 0in 5.4pt; width: 35.75pt; height: 12.75pt;" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="48"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" >3</span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> </td> </tr> </tbody></table> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-5th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/18<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tried to leave the house early, but Moweena was late and worked a lot this morning, so my goal of getting to the <st1:country-region><st1:place>Nepal</st1:place></st1:country-region> embassy to get a visa didn’t work out. I was a half hour late, although had not known what the office hours were. But now I know what time to be there, the one hour span of <st1:time hour="9" minute="30">9:30-10:30</st1:time>. I’ll try again on Wednesday. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I started the local bus portion of my research. I’ve realized it’s a good thing I waited to do these after the ticket buses. The ticket buses, a more controlled environment, gave me practice for the odd things that happen more regularly on local buses. It helped me build a process for doing the data collection quickly, as well as confidence. Today, I was ready for the local bus data collection, and I think this first one went well. Local buses are ALWAYS crowded, and thus my second half of the data collection will have a huge feeling of satisfaction attached to it.<br />One interesting thing to note about the difference in buses, is that the passenger types are a bit different. Those on local buses, seem to be a lot more interested in what I’m doing. In just this first ride I got asked three times what I was doing! It took about a month of ticket bus riding until I got asked even once. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the last 3 buses, it was nothing special. I had one Trans Silva bus and two Midway bus routes to complete to say I was officially done with the ticket buses. The best part of these routes is that ticket sellers on these routes know me, and always tell me to sit and chat. The Midway guy actually bought me some petha and gave me a sweet while I sat there.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-6th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/19<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Discovered that the Pizza Hut lunch special, which says is for two people, and won’t be served to any other party size, can be served to one person, and is just perfect for a hungry guy like me. If they weren’t going to serve me it, I had already prepared what I would say in my defense. Assuming that whoever was serving me would not have been the one to write the rule, only enforcing it, I would showing them how that rule only makes sense for parties of 3 or more, and with parties of one you are losing no money. But didn’t have to happen. Everything was fine, and tasty.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A ferret lives downstairs in our garage.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today was a holiday, so no working today. It is <a href="http://www.festivalsofindia.in/budhpurnima/">Buddha Purima</a>, one of the holiest day for Buddhists. <span class="MsoHyperlink"><o:p></o:p></span>The day commemorates the day the Buddha was born, his enlightenment, and attainment of nirvana. All of these happened on the same day (note, happened on his birthday.) Read the following article to see what is <a href="http://www.thedailystar.net/story.php?nid=37220">happening in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> for Buddha Purnima.</a> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>37<sup>th</sup>-7th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/20<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was unfamiliar with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lychee">litchis</a> before coming here. I only knew of this fruit because I’ve had litchi juice before, but never seen the fruit itself. Here in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>, it is sold in bunches of 50 or 100. They still have the stems and leaves attached. In fact the sellers leave the litchis in big bags of the leaves.<br />The outer prickly peel is easy to remove. You crack the shell and it comes off in big chunks. The inner white fruit is what you eat. Pop the whole thing in your mouth and work the fruit off of the big seed at the center with your tongue and teeth. Then spit the seed out, its pretty big, and impossible to miss. Litchis tastes a bit like a green grape, with almost the same consistency of a peeled grape. (pics: litchis bought from the street, litchi's shell, litchi's fruit inside after removing peel, litchi's seed after sucking the fruit off of it)<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSno7PRItwZqzELjbMP6UKrzC-Ea06a2-e9IpVw4r_VlqwTwRjIWS8-8VbGK6oFMtRXiYImW8J-yZ8pQj3sQSX4wcTrDQWcbt2yNRzHCVx6UUaoh-T4vBPP4G5SugaensT4ah2AgRT7gP/s1600-h/DSC06614.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSno7PRItwZqzELjbMP6UKrzC-Ea06a2-e9IpVw4r_VlqwTwRjIWS8-8VbGK6oFMtRXiYImW8J-yZ8pQj3sQSX4wcTrDQWcbt2yNRzHCVx6UUaoh-T4vBPP4G5SugaensT4ah2AgRT7gP/s320/DSC06614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202889033372899714" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ee_KXUo_NHAG-ESPMZ9yIdICre6o9NU0R8BHCRNu-8nEiJ8RjNsBPhpJ4jWLg0-FQq1iHaxXsbFdtVLIkkM8iPBxGfcVW9GgmeosoUUAn3PNUYSRo3DzrakVv9BOpROcGYNLnLUt-SgP/s1600-h/DSC06615.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ee_KXUo_NHAG-ESPMZ9yIdICre6o9NU0R8BHCRNu-8nEiJ8RjNsBPhpJ4jWLg0-FQq1iHaxXsbFdtVLIkkM8iPBxGfcVW9GgmeosoUUAn3PNUYSRo3DzrakVv9BOpROcGYNLnLUt-SgP/s320/DSC06615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202889037667867026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9PH7vMX-BChyphenhyphenoWhkzBICWm0h7x3Jwp3-E3wyrGmmt4WZKVAZ5v02RnDHttLaDn9ib2ik6Buu1eFsmpi0i-lY76qCELbz6EufV25pn7H2xSKROCGTvbPOFYYbrF-ubJmCJaXe7SOzy4I1/s1600-h/DSC06618.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9PH7vMX-BChyphenhyphenoWhkzBICWm0h7x3Jwp3-E3wyrGmmt4WZKVAZ5v02RnDHttLaDn9ib2ik6Buu1eFsmpi0i-lY76qCELbz6EufV25pn7H2xSKROCGTvbPOFYYbrF-ubJmCJaXe7SOzy4I1/s320/DSC06618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202890515136616866" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2gqspmJoT0OtNM9sqXaI4n0DmyxzuAdIW0UGucg1sgniZdk9vTclP0tnsaxD81nvVxqkiwq48occhYy0YF8350Wx4NrcZgzCyrUZpOO-Ekj7JBWxv0LVeWUkWsQ9kohWYo4ofqPMz9IN/s1600-h/DSC06619.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2gqspmJoT0OtNM9sqXaI4n0DmyxzuAdIW0UGucg1sgniZdk9vTclP0tnsaxD81nvVxqkiwq48occhYy0YF8350Wx4NrcZgzCyrUZpOO-Ekj7JBWxv0LVeWUkWsQ9kohWYo4ofqPMz9IN/s320/DSC06619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202890528021518770" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Today I met up with Jayita to hang out for a bit. Haven’t seen her in several months… that’s what happens when two people really start working. We took a rickshaw from Shahbag to BUET and just chilled on campus talking. She told me about a new store she, her sister, and another partner are planning on opening in Banani selling exclusively Bengali gifts, especially cards. I was pretty amazed at such an endeavor. Said the store should be open by June. We also talked about her recent engagement, the weddings which will happen in the next yearz: hers, Annita’s, and Altaf’s. Found out that Anwar and Sanjana will be coming in for two weeks, although Ben will be here at the same time. Perhaps we’ll get to meet. After this we headed to Baily road and got some lunch at <st1:place>Helvetia</st1:place>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From there, I went to ride the local buses. However I took a side stop at Gulistan in search of a Bangladeshi flag patch. I figured if I could find a place selling scouting materials, I could find it, as they wear that patch on their uniform. No such luck. After about an hour of searching, being misinterpreted for saying “skating” and being directing to a sports store, I gave up.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The first local bus I rode didn’t get crowded at all, and I got frustrated. Local buses, notorious for crowded conditions should always be crowded! Well I realized mid-way through the route that this bus was providing service which was advertised as “sitting”…which means they don’t aim to crowd the bus, just to get enough people to turn a profit and finish the route quickly. If crowding happens, so be it.<br />Well I took it to the end since I knew where it stopped, in north Mirpur, several local buses started. The next two routes turned out well. I rode the #9 bus to Azimpur and back and had some crowded conditions. I am learning a lot more about local buses and how they work in just these first few days of researching them. So different form ticket buses and it’ll be fun to compare them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Was exhausted when I came home. A long day out, and didn’t sleep well last night. Tomorrow I have to get up early to go get my <st1:country-region><st1:place>Nepal</st1:place></st1:country-region> visa.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can’t complete this week’s post without including this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJPDaKocn2Q&feature=related">music video</a> I found. It is of Tishma, a popular teen singer for the past few years. But this purposely unserious video is hilarious to watch. It also gives a good video of some <st1:street><st1:address>Dhaka street</st1:address></st1:street> scenes and interactions which are pretty true to form. The best is at <st1:time minute="25" hour="14">2:25</st1:time> with the man interacting with a CNG driver who doesn’t want to go anywhere. She then sings about how they never want to go anywhere, and if they do, the meter is always “broken.” I complained about that long ago in my blog, before I stopped riding CNGs (for the reasons mentioned in the song.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSno7PRItwZqzELjbMP6UKrzC-Ea06a2-e9IpVw4r_VlqwTwRjIWS8-8VbGK6oFMtRXiYImW8J-yZ8pQj3sQSX4wcTrDQWcbt2yNRzHCVx6UUaoh-T4vBPP4G5SugaensT4ah2AgRT7gP/s1600-h/DSC06614.JPG"><br /></a></p> <b><u><o:p></o:p></u></b>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679931249450632889.post-20070178506621608892008-05-14T10:07:00.018+06:002008-05-14T14:45:16.179+06:00Week 36: BUET Virtutal Tour and first time at the American School<b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-1st in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/7<o:p></o:p></u></b> <p class="MsoNormal">Moweena hasn’t come in a few days, likely sick. So this morning I had to do a lot of dishes and a load of laundry to catch up on from the last time she came. I like washing clothes manually, I get to play and splash.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I made grilled cheese this morning for breakfast. I finally bought some butter, and using pohnir cheese, I treated myself to grilled cheese sandwiches! I rarely cook in my kitchen beyond reheating food Moweena makes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Found out The Office is back on the air, so watched an episode today. Can’t believe how much I’d missed the show. I’ve been watching How I Met Your Mother as well, and am up to speed on that sitcom. Always nice to have these online so I can watch a bit of TV; I don’t watch Bangladeshi TV because I don’t have a connection.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">It rained this afternoon. I could feel it in the air that it was going to. When it did, I turned my music off and just listened, it sounded so nice. And with the rain came refreshingly cool air. My room dropped several degrees, and the whole city just seemed much more pleasant. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I’m glad cockroaches are always <i>scurrying</i> about...because I have faith that when they <i>scurry</i> into a pile of things of mine, they'll <i>scurry</i> out sooner or later</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Some guy called me tonight 20 times. I picked up on try three, just to see who it was, and I didn’t recognize the voice at all. So I hung up, he then called me 17 times more! People are persistent about reaching other here. Although this is a record, having about ten miss calls over the period of a few minutes from a strange number is not rare.<br /><br />Speaking of miss calling, there’s a bit of a culture of miss calling that arises because of the prepaid phone calling. Miss calling is free, and thus why it is such a popular way to communicate, especially when low on credit. In fact, the culture has developed so that a certain number of miss calls means different things. I’m sure this is not standardized between friend circles, but I’ve heard it from different people, so its decently <span style=""> </span>established. One miss call simply means “I’m thinking about you.” Two miss calls me “Call <st1:state><st1:place>me.</st1:place></st1:state>” Three miss calls means “Call me, I’m low on credit!”<br />Please distinguish between a miss call, and a call which was actually missed. A miss call occurs when the caller lets the phone ring once and then hangs up. A missed call would be a call someone wanted to actually make, and I just missed it. You can’t distinguish if you’re not at your phone, but as long as your phone is on your person, you’ll know the difference.<br />It is impolite is to answer a call too early at any time, just in case the person was trying to miss call you. A received call charges the caller, when they didn’t intend to pay for anything. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-2nd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/8<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I rode five buses today. Some were crowded, some were very crowded, some only mildly. I almost dozed off on the fourth, found today’s bus riding to be very exhausting for some reason. End of a great data collection week though, collected 18 buses this week! This is by far a new record, most before this was more around 12 or 13. I just focused hard this week and put all my efforts forward to getting data.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the first bus I went by the Jet Airways ticket office with all intentions to buy my tickets for Kathmandu-Delhi and Delhi-Dhaka. I had passport copies of Travis and I, a credit card, my flights picked. But things, as usual, didn’t go as planned. First thing when I walk in, the woman who told me two weeks ago to wait to book in case better seats came up, said in English that the plane was full, no seats left. I was appalled, speechless. Well, things were more likely were lost in translation, what she meant is that no seats were left in lower price bracket. Well she tells me there are seats at higher fares, fine, we knew those before. So I asked to book them. She then tells me for the first time that in order to buy plane tickets to <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> you need Indian visas. Why she didn’t tell me that two weeks ago when I asked what I’ll need for purchasing is beyond me. If I had known I would’ve jumped on getting my visa quicker, and pushed Travis to do the same.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I get my Indian visa on Monday, Travis gets his soon. As soon as I have them both in hand, I’ll be back there as quick as I can to book and pay. Don’t’ want to lose these seats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the evening, I met up with Aaron, Megan, and some other friends at a Greek restaurant in Gulshan before heading over to the <a href="http://www.ais-dhaka.net/"><st1:place><st1:placename>American</st1:placename> <st1:placename>International</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>School</st1:placetype></st1:place></a> (or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_International_School_of_Dhaka">wiki</a>) for the musical Little Shop of Horrors. The <st1:place><st1:placename>American</st1:placename> <st1:placename>International</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>School</st1:placetype></st1:place> system is a worldwide system of schools which cater to expatriate students, embassy children, and even locals who can afford the really high tuition. The place is a bit of <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region> in whatever country it is in. <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place>’s AIS is supposedly the best in <st1:place>South Asia</st1:place>, and many embassy officials choose assignments in <st1:place>Dhaka</st1:place> because their kids get to attend such a good school. The school really is an American oasis in the midst of the <st1:country-region><st1:place>Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region>. The school looks like you’ve walked into any modern American school. However, outside it is guarded by armed guards and has big gates you have to go through. It is forbidden to just “drive past” the school. Giant walls prevent you from even seeing inside. Inside though, it is decorated and designed in the fashion that any school in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region> would be. It is several storied but has tall atriums that make the school feel very open. They have all grades form pre-school to high school. They have proms and middle school dances. The kids are set to have every experience that any kid in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region> would have. Their playing fields are of the best turf, and well maintained. Expatriates are allowed to use the field for sports after school is out. In fact the school becomes a center point for the American community, hosting sporting and art events. Today, an adult drama group was putting on the play.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The whole experience for me was a bit overwhelming. To see so many Americans in one spot in the first time in a long time was mind blowing. Little kids running every which way, parents trying to tell them to behave, an intermission with brownies, cookies, and cake! Just like I would’ve seen at any school in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region>. I feel like for 2 hours I was warped back to the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region>. I guess that’s what the kids and their parents get to feel everyday.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The play itself was great. Very entertaining, and it was the first time I am consciously seeing the show, after seeing it many times as a kid but only remembering Rick Moranis and a big plant. So I was observant to the plot like it was my first time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-3rd in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/9<o:p></o:p></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="">Today I planed to get a lot work done, but I got none done. Instead I ended up turning a simple pick up of shirts from the tailor into a several hour shopping spree. I went to New Market and walked the aisles, stores, and street side vendors. I wasn’t holding back, figuring I’d be saving a lot just buying here than in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region>. In the end I bought Tk6000 worth of clothing which purchased me: 7 pairs of jeans, 3 collared shirts, 2 pairs of shoes, and 10 t-shirts. Bargaining was essential. Trying on the jeans when I got home found that four of them need to be exchanged/altered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I looked into opportunities today at the Brookings Institute and other related <st1:state><st1:place>Washington</st1:place></st1:state> planning think tanks. Hopefully one of those could come through with an offer, but I doubt it. The job search is plaguing, and no fun at all. Especially from over here when uploading resumes and cover letters takes several minutes. I’ve really had to master multi-tasking here, jumping from webpage to webpage as things load.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-4th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/10<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I’ve recently been thinking about how much I’m going to miss Bangladesh when I’m gone. </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="">Reading</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style=""> about </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">India</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> and my travels after make me think how comfortable I feel in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">Bangladesh</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="">, and how traveling elsewhere intimidates me a bit. I read about things in other country and judge them based on how </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">Bangladesh</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> does it. Although you would think the disorder and low standards of cleanliness and comfort would make me desire to be elsewhere, I am comfortable with it all and thus perceive it as better than what any other country could offer. </span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This especially happens when I read about Kolkata. It’s because I’m reading about a place so similar and close by, but still a strange land to me. I’ll likely spend more time there than other places in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">India</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> just because I can read the signs and speak the language.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">There are two things I like to share during chit-chat with strangers here which helps to create a bond. First, when they ask me what state in the </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">US</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> I am from and I tell them </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="">New Jersey</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="">, I get to share with them how it is the most densely populated state in the </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">US</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="">, just like </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">Bangladesh</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> is the densest in the world. I tell them I know what it’s like! Second, I like to share an analogy which I’ve realized here. When talking about Bengali and English, I tell them that American English is to British English as Bangladeshi Bengali is to Kolkatan Bengali. The latters both think the formers are crude and destroyed versions of the language they treasure. This always brings a smile to their face, as we both get to revel in the fact that our native languages may not follow every proper rule of the formal ways, but we love them anway. </span><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Today Megan and I met up. She just got back from </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="">Nepal</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style=""> pretty much, and leaves this week. So it was a bit of a goodbye lunch, even though I’ll see her again this week. We had delicious pizza at DPavement. Talked about her past trips and where I’m going. </span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-5th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/11<o:p></o:p></u></b><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Data processing, data processing, my life is full of it. But it’s very important and I need to get it done. Did so many buses today, before lunch. Headed to BUET for a few hours and put all those processed buses into the database. I took pictures of what it looks like when I’m processing on my computer. I know it’s not interesting, but if Saket gets to post pictures of his circuit boards, I get to post pictures of my nerdy stuff. (pic: my desktop while I'm data processing. Clockwise from top: voice recording of the bus stop's events playing, online stopwatch I used to mark each board and alight, and my spreadsheet of each bus stop and the times of each board and alight)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3enVKi89ppxV_jcnHacWLJmUcXkskrKYQMQxGJlRhDk3kRarAtuC1v2jDJpfTvxpbarzcO38A7bJPBFVb9r-7ueN1z6tkexI-P9mCHMWOO4GdO_pII1tJdm9xu4RNOMOmlZTrRz0fQ1z/s1600-h/DSC06579.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3enVKi89ppxV_jcnHacWLJmUcXkskrKYQMQxGJlRhDk3kRarAtuC1v2jDJpfTvxpbarzcO38A7bJPBFVb9r-7ueN1z6tkexI-P9mCHMWOO4GdO_pII1tJdm9xu4RNOMOmlZTrRz0fQ1z/s320/DSC06579.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200115004190726466" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">My bus broke down on the way home tonight from BUET (wasn’t researching, just going home.) This is not a rare event. I’ve been on about 5 buses now that have broken down in these few months, granted I ride a lot.</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">BUET VIRTUAL TOUR: I have taken enough pictures of BUET over the past months where I think I can make a decent virtual tour. I didn’t plan on doing this beforehand, so all the pictures are ones I happen to have taken. So apologies if you keeping having to “turn around” in the tour. But I’ve drawn the route on the Google Map in the sidebar, so you can follow it a bit there, and the bolded photo numbers correspond to markers on the map (look for purple cameras, an click on them for Photo numbers)</span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We start on the street outside of BUET, at the northwest edge of the campus, near </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="">Polashi Mor <span style="font-weight: bold;">(1)</span>. Kataban Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style=""> splits the campus into the academic and residential halves. The wall on our left is the campus wall of the northern academic side, and we’ll follow it until we reach the campus’ main gate. The white wall on the opposite side of the road is the residential part of campus. Rickshaws are always going down this street, but without many cars, and thus a good place to have a rickshaw repair station as seen in the picture <span style="font-weight: bold;">(2)</span>. As we near the main gate, we see the </span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="">overbridge</span></st1:placetype><span style=""> of </span><st1:placename><span style="">BUET</span></st1:placename></st1:place><span style=""> which goes over the main intersection in front of the gate <span style="font-weight: bold;">(3)</span> (read more on that later.)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgKJPkM_Wcf9yk6gLrYoS6fQv1JzHuTH4GGy_W_ORLWsyxt1r_CvKQrkTpAk_QSsFOG0tksKJaNFErGrA_tuVRL_W5ZcOw188LVacyS24xwqQ41vCJ-Dzy3GD_tyzmxoG1mAW0lYQWKXC/s1600-h/DSC03970.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgKJPkM_Wcf9yk6gLrYoS6fQv1JzHuTH4GGy_W_ORLWsyxt1r_CvKQrkTpAk_QSsFOG0tksKJaNFErGrA_tuVRL_W5ZcOw188LVacyS24xwqQ41vCJ-Dzy3GD_tyzmxoG1mAW0lYQWKXC/s320/DSC03970.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200107702746323234" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk-NDGSssZXLw_Y0TDTU0zfObfdZ11-3f7Uot-2_c6LcJqy84ffIKm9YO1lb5WFpOWk2LtwXH40Uv5xd6QVorcOsa1VnRovauqS17GB3v2aZ3ZrFlYHy0S5riu0l9BdIIwHuUcV0fzi_h/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk-NDGSssZXLw_Y0TDTU0zfObfdZ11-3f7Uot-2_c6LcJqy84ffIKm9YO1lb5WFpOWk2LtwXH40Uv5xd6QVorcOsa1VnRovauqS17GB3v2aZ3ZrFlYHy0S5riu0l9BdIIwHuUcV0fzi_h/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200083294447179650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbmgEwIofq7ll4rMlTR76PZbt7ed8FHUbQc7y4rqcsglF0YI_q4HlUvul9MAWChQvNTljwTltCmrDWQp5h7dITihhgXo-c4aqIhnsxyerdmGSEDkOCx3vu74fIXlEqimDfPUH3-zvjT88P/s1600-h/DSC04003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbmgEwIofq7ll4rMlTR76PZbt7ed8FHUbQc7y4rqcsglF0YI_q4HlUvul9MAWChQvNTljwTltCmrDWQp5h7dITihhgXo-c4aqIhnsxyerdmGSEDkOCx3vu74fIXlEqimDfPUH3-zvjT88P/s320/DSC04003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200107702746323250" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br />We come to the main gate and see the seven story civil engineering building rising above the trees. Just outside the gate is the Shahid Minar of BUET <span style="font-weight: bold;">(4)</span>. Students enjoy hanging out on the steps of the Shahid Minar. A quick turn left and we see the gate and the campus ahead of us (adorned here during the Civil Festival.) <span style="font-weight: bold;">(5) </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaC0SpzsHtvxP79y8pvNPY264D8-QEhAtidRm4h5sLfVKrA7YkhAReLNeVhdPnua0Tuq-o0u0_j0NkbcjbJUfqgWhph-rhZbpP80ByTWRVCNnsDjjdxGcLmM1Aj8P5LlQ2RB6pWJYjNF4/s1600-h/1+%281%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaC0SpzsHtvxP79y8pvNPY264D8-QEhAtidRm4h5sLfVKrA7YkhAReLNeVhdPnua0Tuq-o0u0_j0NkbcjbJUfqgWhph-rhZbpP80ByTWRVCNnsDjjdxGcLmM1Aj8P5LlQ2RB6pWJYjNF4/s320/1+%281%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200083303037114258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwXOBPKhaAKfMLJINGYVMWFkrcb9844q4tELQP7iIYnArbg75-ThIywvDKiij-XGRq_y3Ef-D14jQX8j2Y461_OYfWWmgpRoGKLuAgWRFWLdiTa9L2qvOj0sh3GwBiXdaTT-1hBCy-Y7H/s1600-h/1+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwXOBPKhaAKfMLJINGYVMWFkrcb9844q4tELQP7iIYnArbg75-ThIywvDKiij-XGRq_y3Ef-D14jQX8j2Y461_OYfWWmgpRoGKLuAgWRFWLdiTa9L2qvOj0sh3GwBiXdaTT-1hBCy-Y7H/s320/1+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200083303037114274" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">As we walk through the gate, we can look to our right and see the road that goes between the Civil and Mechanical/Electrical buildings, anchored at the end by the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Registrar</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(6)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6q2E02bp6HzxPDR4rTL_D0jmDRBkS1bw2get_UkAhZPG6U4u6DxxNigqGvJ5GZanOGyT4v6KzN5i7hyphenhyphen_6pDEps8ZJxSFULd-v1Go7-or_F5lySNLKFcw4Y5E2hzxMOBF0n-J1GB-lMhL0/s1600-h/1+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6q2E02bp6HzxPDR4rTL_D0jmDRBkS1bw2get_UkAhZPG6U4u6DxxNigqGvJ5GZanOGyT4v6KzN5i7hyphenhyphen_6pDEps8ZJxSFULd-v1Go7-or_F5lySNLKFcw4Y5E2hzxMOBF0n-J1GB-lMhL0/s320/1+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200083307332081586" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Walk a little farther in, and look behind you, you’ll see the gate. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(7)</span> When facing this way, the civil building is on your left, and the auditorium is on your right.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnD3wYm7ULZpAnNXmnzgoGSQDXIIx_1pEOwfR46Luy9aP2LXsi9132uvei73oWnQAfTFwJRBIpembTF_3NXN54lPe-La8cl-syLSEJZ8LjJydK_np4NAt-BL2NEL_zlE18VORzVArEBKB/s1600-h/1+%284%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnD3wYm7ULZpAnNXmnzgoGSQDXIIx_1pEOwfR46Luy9aP2LXsi9132uvei73oWnQAfTFwJRBIpembTF_3NXN54lPe-La8cl-syLSEJZ8LjJydK_np4NAt-BL2NEL_zlE18VORzVArEBKB/s320/1+%284%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200083311627048898" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br />Turning to the auditorium, we walk inside the main student gathering area (during a quieter part of the year) and see the auditorium to our left, and the canteen straight ahead of us. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(8)</span> A little bit more lively when festivals are happening. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(9)</span> Here students gather to talk and play cricket, but I rarely see people doing work or eating. All eating and work doing is saved for indoors, such as inside the canteen (taken when I had Iftar in BUET’s canteen.) <span style="font-weight: bold;">(10)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FC6p6XMFG2FUI5HqmuBY-kzdx0QaMGvsya7x4H58KHP_qQkaIKVVVRVn-Pgxu4q5xMT1V_MSrHycjG6o0UE6gXkApHCjT5eTBElh_PxPc97dr7WSEHSMM_rwHEwm0-y0KaDj5Z377Vyg/s1600-h/1+%285%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FC6p6XMFG2FUI5HqmuBY-kzdx0QaMGvsya7x4H58KHP_qQkaIKVVVRVn-Pgxu4q5xMT1V_MSrHycjG6o0UE6gXkApHCjT5eTBElh_PxPc97dr7WSEHSMM_rwHEwm0-y0KaDj5Z377Vyg/s320/1+%285%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200094641750775762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGO2-WoHY_eAI9RjMsyyqmawWGhecukcFnOre7ynVdrbHMPsojqf4ne_w366tSe069ruoHSjK2SN3-SaJCcxHYf4WzsFlOleaAmh3-SGPs2Ak3_gH1EIwhQhNuenJ-1C8_VG5w64fc2KE/s1600-h/1+%286%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGO2-WoHY_eAI9RjMsyyqmawWGhecukcFnOre7ynVdrbHMPsojqf4ne_w366tSe069ruoHSjK2SN3-SaJCcxHYf4WzsFlOleaAmh3-SGPs2Ak3_gH1EIwhQhNuenJ-1C8_VG5w64fc2KE/s320/1+%286%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200094646045743074" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7jtTq5V1K-5LYM2Qb_RklxCHiuRK2pSUgOKCRz_Z0sg_y8Fli9SMBW5iD2HTSGkcD2EDArzs3OKjs47D_RUAvVumA75q92r0SAtk6vCTEB0yX6lVJ4qWS5tFHfen1HlKaUdL32NE9PY3/s1600-h/1+%287%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7jtTq5V1K-5LYM2Qb_RklxCHiuRK2pSUgOKCRz_Z0sg_y8Fli9SMBW5iD2HTSGkcD2EDArzs3OKjs47D_RUAvVumA75q92r0SAtk6vCTEB0yX6lVJ4qWS5tFHfen1HlKaUdL32NE9PY3/s320/1+%287%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200094654635677682" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br />Walk out of the canteen, and back through the gathering area, look to your left towards the north wall of the campus, and you see the brick Accident Research Center, the newest building at BUET, and the garage, where university buses wait to bring students home at 1pm and 5pm. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(11)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NC5iz_iltNJQVfitqUomamsNrq45llKfgXMp-HxOFk8D7Lz1skXMNo4K-E3GIBU-pSaKq95kJKa_rOqICNb1HeD67xI_rT0_sJiEtBTimtR_fXeokJQTeo6sLNBDJ-IUxir1667g8Mhj/s1600-h/1+%288%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NC5iz_iltNJQVfitqUomamsNrq45llKfgXMp-HxOFk8D7Lz1skXMNo4K-E3GIBU-pSaKq95kJKa_rOqICNb1HeD67xI_rT0_sJiEtBTimtR_fXeokJQTeo6sLNBDJ-IUxir1667g8Mhj/s320/1+%288%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200094658930644994" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We sneak behind the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">’s backside, passing through the Civil teachers’ parking lot <span style="font-weight: bold;">(12)</span>, and go into the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">. Upon entering, we see the stairs right in front of us, giant columns where people post fliers for events, and the elevators to our right. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(13)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt8yhFvozupZYQaBQgQwqT5mjSXMR0FzUD7P97kZq6HQC0m0pUipfvRLmOpKvgX6CnCDOtyC5H9RxCUiC9KKl6BGCWwsmcbO8soDxLLprVJIu2slPzqgDpNOlsbHVIoRx6fmq2bwrL1-w/s1600-h/1+%289%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt8yhFvozupZYQaBQgQwqT5mjSXMR0FzUD7P97kZq6HQC0m0pUipfvRLmOpKvgX6CnCDOtyC5H9RxCUiC9KKl6BGCWwsmcbO8soDxLLprVJIu2slPzqgDpNOlsbHVIoRx6fmq2bwrL1-w/s320/1+%289%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200094663225612306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhCnVP-jwlDcxdjSqrYR3v3Efpb1abCm-CruHPlVNFNBrBw7FUTMEz2HnQiuh1ZyUQIvi-ugKWJ0_uIeU6pgvudzbFPx6NgOL_-muVbLlW0VPBwRtHhniSURSOoOFH_DP3jgkhULpjNM1/s1600-h/1+%2810%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhCnVP-jwlDcxdjSqrYR3v3Efpb1abCm-CruHPlVNFNBrBw7FUTMEz2HnQiuh1ZyUQIvi-ugKWJ0_uIeU6pgvudzbFPx6NgOL_-muVbLlW0VPBwRtHhniSURSOoOFH_DP3jgkhULpjNM1/s320/1+%2810%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200096913788475426" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We take the elevator to the top floor using the “Teachers Only” elevator (students elevator stops below the top floor, and we would have to walk a flight of stairs after.) We go to one of the buildings gaping windows and look north. In front of us is the entirety of </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Dhaka</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">University</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">, and past that, Shahbag. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(14)</span> If you look straight down, you’ll see a beautiful gardened area with “BUET” spelled out in some shrubbery. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(15)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1BMJp8boFHbz3b8mHFr377EAwU5kKeIwTFWSRU6sbkBRijHvK3jPXEUb43bBzwHK7Of2dpmhoHu3WgTMaBQmfaTva_y6uGek_NwjbjM2Xp-zeWZTzJYUYy0oTNgvxd_y7MhWHtYqZ3yj/s1600-h/1+%2811%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1BMJp8boFHbz3b8mHFr377EAwU5kKeIwTFWSRU6sbkBRijHvK3jPXEUb43bBzwHK7Of2dpmhoHu3WgTMaBQmfaTva_y6uGek_NwjbjM2Xp-zeWZTzJYUYy0oTNgvxd_y7MhWHtYqZ3yj/s320/1+%2811%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200096922378410034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiopOTjBlFLXvRy1LP5wHzZ58NTdLZfWbnqrcg0A09-4TJnrbAouaZI82JG5pD9hwQB4l9JLVtrS3ROETCMX78wxunjzReQ9MZw7kIiPHocUgs149s12Ij7Cifc4L8vZijTEKGmO1GGdS0W/s1600-h/1+%2812%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiopOTjBlFLXvRy1LP5wHzZ58NTdLZfWbnqrcg0A09-4TJnrbAouaZI82JG5pD9hwQB4l9JLVtrS3ROETCMX78wxunjzReQ9MZw7kIiPHocUgs149s12Ij7Cifc4L8vZijTEKGmO1GGdS0W/s320/1+%2812%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200096926673377346" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Walk across the building to the south side, and look out the window and we see the Mechanical/Electrical Building with Old Dhaka behind it. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(16)</span> If you crane your head out the window, and look to your right, to the west, you’ll see the new Electrical Engineering Building under construction, <span style="font-weight: bold;">(17)</span> soon to be the biggest building on campus.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Fdra2cQzCLmti56OD7xIt0btWriJsEQnuqXQ7R2Urjt5EKHKCV-WOZo2CoBtG_gopBEn4mtZw3EJvvZSng4PoV7aykl4OYOecjmZiw-tBvRvfz7wWII1U1y1y861hYPNHtvItRJaghgW/s1600-h/1+%2813%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Fdra2cQzCLmti56OD7xIt0btWriJsEQnuqXQ7R2Urjt5EKHKCV-WOZo2CoBtG_gopBEn4mtZw3EJvvZSng4PoV7aykl4OYOecjmZiw-tBvRvfz7wWII1U1y1y861hYPNHtvItRJaghgW/s320/1+%2813%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200096930968344658" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrh5SfBq6nbEj7RvAmuBXuU134iKGClxOBawoYsydoCIoluJL02mddg6Lnn_2VXdMooovSAOHd71JUBcRGFod4hHQEpJaeqGoLbnRqBZpWxy0WhZqpP1dcUYRQ9pMiEqfBBGxkA2WGijm/s1600-h/1+%2814%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrh5SfBq6nbEj7RvAmuBXuU134iKGClxOBawoYsydoCIoluJL02mddg6Lnn_2VXdMooovSAOHd71JUBcRGFod4hHQEpJaeqGoLbnRqBZpWxy0WhZqpP1dcUYRQ9pMiEqfBBGxkA2WGijm/s320/1+%2814%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200096930968344674" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Walking back to the elevators, you can look down through the stairwell. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(18)</span> The </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style=""> usually stays quite cool, and I believe it is because of the air movement in the fairly open feeling building. We walk out the back of the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">, and take a right. We are passing in front of the Old Engineering Building (don’t know the real name, but that’s what I know it to be, one of the original buildings of BUET which now is used for Chemistry, Physics, and some labs.) As we go down the road, we look behind us and see the old engineering building on our right. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(19)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mpxrrzWKcfU8-DLDISeDk4vW9C7Ci8fDqEqbu4S9oPc6OLjXnptatuCmXT_cm-dtFVYRtUxD2MAUFh468BLZrD36u1S4Vnxl4uwFhMWjgO9-_EZCmes384VBTWWONWCVEMvl_sre-s-P/s1600-h/1+%2815%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mpxrrzWKcfU8-DLDISeDk4vW9C7Ci8fDqEqbu4S9oPc6OLjXnptatuCmXT_cm-dtFVYRtUxD2MAUFh468BLZrD36u1S4Vnxl4uwFhMWjgO9-_EZCmes384VBTWWONWCVEMvl_sre-s-P/s320/1+%2815%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200099009732515954" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGO4fSEHNpJt25jYd-cN2sRGxgSAU4dsQRKcdnyUnu2obMh6BRD2wySoA8O1MlZBs9kEY28mt4IMPC1GUDNHWV8mOyYtK4sB3VMUlB669VtNoo97hKEbHpEHgnUIeHFW7ZxOhJpScJy-3/s1600-h/1+%2816%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGO4fSEHNpJt25jYd-cN2sRGxgSAU4dsQRKcdnyUnu2obMh6BRD2wySoA8O1MlZBs9kEY28mt4IMPC1GUDNHWV8mOyYtK4sB3VMUlB669VtNoo97hKEbHpEHgnUIeHFW7ZxOhJpScJy-3/s320/1+%2816%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200099014027483266" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br />We walk through the east gate of the campus only enough to see the BUET playing fields. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(20)</span> This is where full cricket and soccer matches are held.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB0YYu1bSvv7APg_nhOozosm9A51A3nWrawKfG4hV3OsMIkbioOXRlSlIyw0h_JH-266CdzhpVJeR6xeDP9Yvz3Ew8lwiamaMYCzYfrn6reDdfUvU0oSBl9uTNv_oQ967SZpTqXoCVd6T/s1600-h/1+%2817%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB0YYu1bSvv7APg_nhOozosm9A51A3nWrawKfG4hV3OsMIkbioOXRlSlIyw0h_JH-266CdzhpVJeR6xeDP9Yvz3Ew8lwiamaMYCzYfrn6reDdfUvU0oSBl9uTNv_oQ967SZpTqXoCVd6T/s320/1+%2817%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200099014027483282" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We walk back in the gate, and make a left, heading south. We pass in front of the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Registrar</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">. In front of it, we look behind us and see the red brick </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Registrar</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style=""> on our right, and the squat </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Exhibition</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style=""> on our left. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(21)</span> Turning a few degrees counterclockwise, we see the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Civil</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style=""> again, surrounded by huge trees and many shrubs. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(22)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJXGJ3WpzHa7hki55zLQ01vPIirbdvvk_DCHNmWlOrvHJYa7Tc95yJl6pkHn5fZ_apQ63PYUoOuK7db6PNPelbqReel67IuqRtF_BwSfBjmiGpY77Y6pOP7LbAjy_Y5hGZi_IoxN_jKoS/s1600-h/1+%2818%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJXGJ3WpzHa7hki55zLQ01vPIirbdvvk_DCHNmWlOrvHJYa7Tc95yJl6pkHn5fZ_apQ63PYUoOuK7db6PNPelbqReel67IuqRtF_BwSfBjmiGpY77Y6pOP7LbAjy_Y5hGZi_IoxN_jKoS/s320/1+%2818%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200099018322450594" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATQ2QQ0ZbrdHfwTUF9f96AJWJ7KHVy7viU1Syn_lp8T-S92JQx3gZukks1d5CwjiCKsllSS76s_bKZmV_UBD8NMZzVRqgivtyn2PLR29K23Z5iGuT7FrxAO5i4oaZwMxKJMKqzvwpZDar/s1600-h/1+%2819%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATQ2QQ0ZbrdHfwTUF9f96AJWJ7KHVy7viU1Syn_lp8T-S92JQx3gZukks1d5CwjiCKsllSS76s_bKZmV_UBD8NMZzVRqgivtyn2PLR29K23Z5iGuT7FrxAO5i4oaZwMxKJMKqzvwpZDar/s320/1+%2819%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200099022617417906" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We start to walk between the Civil and </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Mechanical</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Buildings</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">, and look behind us to catch another look at the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="">Registrar</span></st1:placename><span style=""> </span><st1:placetype><span style="">Building</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="">. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(23)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcob3RSxefdhfKUxi3Ry1Hh3VZNlHbip1XZ7GyLcO4PXAHo7o7wTRbDv07zIHDmoqb1GwF126lEwC_6Ek_Vn5wMl9BdDnrF1CvWURpI8VQpMrIBU2x8x1j86SR6Y-hslgnEc8hzIB4FQJ3/s1600-h/1+%2820%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcob3RSxefdhfKUxi3Ry1Hh3VZNlHbip1XZ7GyLcO4PXAHo7o7wTRbDv07zIHDmoqb1GwF126lEwC_6Ek_Vn5wMl9BdDnrF1CvWURpI8VQpMrIBU2x8x1j86SR6Y-hslgnEc8hzIB4FQJ3/s320/1+%2820%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200101075611785410" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We walk down the road, make a left through the main gate, and cross the intersection below an overbridge which no one uses. We head a little bit into the residential area before turning around to look at the intersection. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(24)</span> The big truck carrying pious men is a common site. The overbridge with no use is a testament to bad engineering and planning. The overbridge spans too short of a distance and the road is not nearly busy enough to warrant use of the bridge.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtphLigz1YqCJYPnrQGnNh5fgPnW1clQOzSvQLTHVOTXjXpszURVkVM9xzkSiM10Vv9TCbW2xJ94Dt-gaXOwouMhYoLVSdOwke5uTJaSAwD2DLrCpsPCGIwNvDWY3hTIZzK-S7d-fkdnhA/s1600-h/1+%2821%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtphLigz1YqCJYPnrQGnNh5fgPnW1clQOzSvQLTHVOTXjXpszURVkVM9xzkSiM10Vv9TCbW2xJ94Dt-gaXOwouMhYoLVSdOwke5uTJaSAwD2DLrCpsPCGIwNvDWY3hTIZzK-S7d-fkdnhA/s320/1+%2821%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200101084201720018" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We head into the residential area on our left, and catch a view of one of the seven residential halls. Five are for Muslim men, one is for Hindu men, and one is for all women of all religions. The one pictured is for Muslim men. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(25)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8B0XES6x3V8D2svndGq8yUzWyKDL-MI9Oza2vrZxpripJfZcWoSyHWeqFwP9CPPKw9UqW5sNqsM3qbKT_8af-OHUeFQvntkGXZN8xGoE_xpz2Btzm0BEo2kfzwrUp1FmfRqcLv5wyJcb/s1600-h/1+%2822%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8B0XES6x3V8D2svndGq8yUzWyKDL-MI9Oza2vrZxpripJfZcWoSyHWeqFwP9CPPKw9UqW5sNqsM3qbKT_8af-OHUeFQvntkGXZN8xGoE_xpz2Btzm0BEo2kfzwrUp1FmfRqcLv5wyJcb/s320/1+%2822%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200101088496687330" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Near the end of our tour we reach the gymnasium, and look inside to see a basketball court and a few weight stations scattered around the perimeter. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(26 and 27)</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPES0juLiDmRqoX5vdDRJze8u9zSummqyNuaW7c-jCutE2spff_wi9a6I9GKRs19KhAgpr2ywUy_QxerZH6yJ4IGLNXrHYZ6vUT6yfda12lUxPbOEPpoQxQmuQ3zYfV-hW1-qasWjA22qD/s1600-h/1+%2823%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPES0juLiDmRqoX5vdDRJze8u9zSummqyNuaW7c-jCutE2spff_wi9a6I9GKRs19KhAgpr2ywUy_QxerZH6yJ4IGLNXrHYZ6vUT6yfda12lUxPbOEPpoQxQmuQ3zYfV-hW1-qasWjA22qD/s320/1+%2823%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200101092791654642" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBDe_EuT3neTbC5qvUiISS2UBioijB4lPWy9HjCwDAdmOppgf3CbV2PUmC4rGtFtN3-_BhTEo391-DBMyfIT39lm1YMSF5NSqdNMdOS-3jQqtUn0fNqafD8X8NbRDGOSrgzDKqArOUTBT/s1600-h/1+%2824%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyBDe_EuT3neTbC5qvUiISS2UBioijB4lPWy9HjCwDAdmOppgf3CbV2PUmC4rGtFtN3-_BhTEo391-DBMyfIT39lm1YMSF5NSqdNMdOS-3jQqtUn0fNqafD8X8NbRDGOSrgzDKqArOUTBT/s320/1+%2824%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200101092791654658" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Lastly, we walk back out of the residential area back to Polashi Mor, and then head west on Azimpur Road. On the north side of this road, if we look to our left, we see the brand new Electrical Engineering Building. <span style="font-weight: bold;">(28)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Vzp-e0IrRil9pz_2BGSvKWAg1apwct5wZo6VF-CAgUU6QJMzLu3V41JiIICp2avG0uwPQnQsxjpO6xViwvCbVSGcnKTri-z5lCD7UvaHXKHZKVeTM16TaUSqohRjn2F9Z5CfMwg6tHgV/s1600-h/DSC03961.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Vzp-e0IrRil9pz_2BGSvKWAg1apwct5wZo6VF-CAgUU6QJMzLu3V41JiIICp2avG0uwPQnQsxjpO6xViwvCbVSGcnKTri-z5lCD7UvaHXKHZKVeTM16TaUSqohRjn2F9Z5CfMwg6tHgV/s320/DSC03961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200107694156388626" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-6th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/12<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Had to go pick up my Indian visa today. Moweena came late today, and since I had to wait until she left to leave myself, I showed up at the visa office 20 minutes later than I wanted to, but still on time. Luckily there was no hassle, after a bit of waiting, I got to walk in the office and just get my passport and go.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then did four buses. Some weren’t as crowded as I would like, but two were good, and I was happy with it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Farhanaz called me while I was at home late this evening. She asked me to come over for dinner with her family. Tonight was her last night staying with her family before she moves back to her in-laws across town with her now two-month old baby. She also wanted to give me my birthday present late; she bought me a Bangladeshi t-shirt.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>36<sup>th</sup>-7th in </u></b><st1:place><b><u>Dhaka</u></b></st1:place><b><u> 5/13<o:p></o:p></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Finally got one plane ticket this morning, for </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="">Delhi</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style=""> to </span><st1:place><span style="">Dhaka</span></st1:place><span style="">. Still waiting on Travis’ visa to finish that up and buy our tickets from </span><st1:place><span style="">Kathmandu</span></st1:place><span style=""> to </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="">Delhi</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some photos from this blog that I took in the Sundarbans got used on this website, <a href="http://www.loe.org/shows/segments.htm?programID=08-P13-00019&segmentID=1">Living On Earth</a>, on their weekly radio program! I also put the link on the sidebar.</p>Bus riding today was succesful, a midday storm caused some interesting dynamics. I will have to get used to that as I start doing local buses next week. Also since I sit by the window and have to keep sticking my head out, I get wet. But it is refreshing.<br /><br />The rains are definitely coming. It is a great feeling of anticipation. Also lychees hit the streets this week. Learned how to eat them, very peculiar. They will be very popular starting in June as prices drop. Mangoes have been out for about a month now, but their two-month peak is fast approaching. And I'm already eating about one and a day!<br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p>Donnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14046541625764403023noreply@blogger.com5